


The Goblet's Charge

by Bellatrix_Giggles



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Smart Harry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-12
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-04-20 10:31:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 85,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4784141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bellatrix_Giggles/pseuds/Bellatrix_Giggles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if the Goblet of Fire had a requirement to protect its champions from harm/death outside of the tournament until it was completed? How would that have changed the course of Harry's life if the goblet had altered the killing curse that had been aimed at Cedric to something else instead? Slash. Harry/Cedric initially but then Harry/Charlie. Character Death/Incapacitation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: First, welcome! Second, the beginning of this story popped into my head while I was on vacation. I had hoped to get caught up writing chapters for my other fic, Soul Magic, but this just wouldn’t leave me alone until I put the start of it down on paper. I haven’t abandoned Soul Magic and it is my first priority, but I will continue to work on both stories now. It’ll be nice to have a break but still keep the creative juices flowing by moving from one to the other. 
> 
> I’ll just spend a few sentences giving you a longer summary so that you know what you are getting into.
> 
> Premise: What if the Goblet of Fire had a charge to protect its champions from harm/death outside of the tournament until it was completed? How would that have changed the course of Harry’s life if the goblet had altered the killing curse that had been aimed at Cedric to something else instead?
> 
> Pairing: Begins with Harry/Cedric, and then will slowly move to Harry/Charlie. Some may not understand how I will make that transition but there will be a point to it.
> 
> Plot: Will focus on mostly cannon events with a few exceptions/additions as the story progresses and the obvious partner I pair Harry with. Voldemort has his horcruxes and they work as they do in cannon. One thing I will focus on will be on how the removed horcrux from Harry’s scar affects him going forward.
> 
> Length: TBD but most likely greater than 200k or so.

**Standard disclaimer about not owning anything; I am so thankful for JKR and all that she did for us. She gave us one of the greatest gifts, and so many people have taken to this site and played brilliantly with her creation. We should have a JKR day and it should be a global holiday!**

 

Harry and Cedric hit the hard ground, unprepared for the sudden portkey experience and stumbling to remain upright while the Triwizard Cup tumbled to the ground next to where they finally managed to stand. It took a few seconds before either of them could make sense of their new surroundings after they had been transported to this place that did not give them a feeling that was altogether comforting.

“Harry, did you know this was a portkey?” The older boy asked, confused but holding his wand out in front of him in a defensive manner.

“Not at all,” Harry replied. He was more focused on why this place seemed familiar to him, as if he had been here before. His mind was intent on figuring out why he had this faint recognition and what it could mean; but like usual, he couldn’t quite make the final connection.

“I think I have seen this place before, or at least, I feel like I have,” Harry started before finishing abruptly with, “something’s not right.”

He had just uttered those words when his scar erupted in a searing pain and he fell to his knees, holding his unwanted memento from the night of his parent’s death with his left hand while his right hand tightly gripped his wand as he tried to hold it in front of him.

Cedric rushed over to his side, “Harry! Harry, what is it? Are you all right?” He placed his hand on Harry’s shoulder, not knowing what else to do to assuage the younger boy’s obvious discomfort. His attention was so focused on Harry’s well-being that he failed to notice a hunched over figure emerging from behind a large stone structure, carrying what looked to be a baby.

“Kill the spare!” An eerie voice commanded, causing Cedric’s head to snap around, looking for the source of that chilling sound.

Seconds, Cedric only had seconds to recognize the odd pair that stood in front of him before the larger figure covered in a shabby cloak unsheathed his wand and held it in front of him.

“ _Avada Kedavra_ ,” he cried, unleashing a sickly, green jet of light that was barreling straight towards Cedric’s heart.

Time slowed. Cedric stopped breathing and felt like he was watching the scene unfold in front of him at a sluggish pace; however, he was unable to do anything to combat the death that he knew was coming.

Just then, out of the corner of his eye, Cedric noticed that the Triwizard Cup had begun to glow, and the jet of green light that had been inching ever closer to where he stood instantly began to change course.

Breath entered into his lungs once more and time seemed to speed up all around him, and the curse picked up pace and screamed into Harry Potter. His anguished cries were instantly silenced as his body was thrown backwards due to the force of the curse, careening into a tombstone right next to where the Triwizard Cup laid.

Cedric watched, horrified as Harry’s body came to a rest, lying facedown with his wand held loosely in his right hand.

 

Harry blinked away the sharpness of the white light until his eyes adjusted to his new surroundings. He felt different: his mind was clearer than it had ever been and his body felt light and solid and strong, with no trace of the pain that he had been suffering from moments earlier. In fact, he found it quite hard to remember what he had just been doing and the more time that went on the harder it became.

‘Where am I?’ He thought to himself, supporting himself with his arms as he pushed off of the ground to stand up. He looked around and saw nothing but white in every direction that he looked except for a dark, black mass a few feet in front of him.

He began to walk towards the unknown object when a familiar voice called out to him, “You can’t help it. No one can, at least not anymore.”

Harry tensed, and slowly turned around to face the person whose sound was among the very first that he had committed to memory. A sound that he was doomed to hear crying out every time a Dementor came too close to him.

She stood there, her luminous red hair falling to her shoulders to frame her lightly freckled and beautiful face, beckoning him to join her with outstretched arms.

“Mum?” he said in a disbelieving whisper, unable to stop the tears from beginning to collect in his eyes as he slowly moved towards her.

Her eyes smiled at him and she nodded her head in confirmation.

“My sweet, brave boy,” Lily called to him as he came face to face with her, being just as tall now as she had been. The subsequent hug was everything that Harry had thought and dreamt that it would be. There was tenderness and support and love, unconditional love in it.

The smile that had been growing on Harry’s face from his heart finally getting its wish faltered as his sharper mind quickly worked through how this was possible.

“Am I dead?” He asked, a part of him not caring if that was the case because he had just gotten something that he had always wanted.

Lily’s eyebrows scrunched up in thought as she backed out of the hug but remained holding onto Harry’s shoulders, continuing to provide him with emotional support.

“That depends on you,” she replied mysteriously.

“On me?” Harry was confused. He didn’t know how to feel about where he was or anything that was going on.

She reached out and gently traced the scar that had faded quite considerably in only a few moments. One of his defining features was no longer that apparent.

“I can’t say anything about how you got here; I can’t interfere,” she said sadly. A pained look was in her eyes that lingered for a moment before her features brightened and she smiled again, her quick intellect finding a way to skirt around the restrictions placed on her by the powers that allowed her to be here.

“But I can say that _how_ you got here _is_ important,” she looked him straight in the eyes, emphasizing the meaning of her words.

Harry nodded his understanding and committed it to memory even though he had no idea of what she was talking about in that moment.

“Your time is almost up, darling. You need to make a decision if you want to return,” she spoke as she swept Harry’s hair out of his eyes to get a last look at his emerald eyes, so much like her own. She already knew what his choice would be.

“What good will it do if I return?” Harry didn’t want to be parted so quickly, but the mere thought of him returning made his memories of the graveyard that he had come from return to him and it was getting easier and easier to remember.

“Cedric!” He gasped. “I can’t leave him there with Wormtail but…”

Harry looked his mum over and, even as he spent time memorizing her face, she began to fade and the white light that had been all-encompassing was beginning to darken. He could feel himself going back but he wanted to remain with her longer.

“Your father and I will always be with you, Harry. We live inside your heart,” she finished and rested her hand over his chest.

Harry was having trouble seeing her now and his body was gradually beginning to feel the hard ground and aching muscles courtesy of the killing curse.

Her last words came softly but would forever remain ingrained in his mind: “good luck.”

And then he opened his eyes just a sliver and fully reconnected his senses to the present. He would have to process what had just happened later because of the scene progressing rapidly in front of him required all of his attention.

His first instinct was to act but he found his mind was quicker than it used to be and it urged him to wait and observe because something told him that he might only get one chance with this.

“Wormtail, you idiot,” a cold and sinister voice hissed from a swath of clothes that Peter Pettigrew was holding like a baby.

“M-master, it wasn’t my fault. The cup! The cup glowed when I cast the curse and hit Harry Potter instead. I swear it, my Lord.”

Cries of rage were heard that sent a shiver down Harry’s spine.

“M-master, please,” Wormtail begged. “We can still use Harry Potter’s blood!” he said hopefully.

“No we can’t! The blood has to be taken from something alive. You are beyond useless; my one chance at regaining a body from Harry bloody Potter, lost due to your incompetence and excuses.”

“We can use the other boy; he is just lying there now, unconscious!” Pettigrew whined hopefully.

“Yes Wormtail, be proud that you managed to stun a wizard far younger than yourself,” the unseen voice chided as it simultaneously became calmer that all was not lost.

“However,” the voice that Harry now reasoned was Voldemort spoke, less harshly than before, “he is still my enemy and his blood will still do. Prepare the cauldron,” it commanded.

Harry lied there as Pettigrew quickly set to work gathering ingredients and conjuring a cauldron for something that Harry was positive was not going to be used for anything good after hearing words like ‘regaining a body.’ He had to make his plans fast, and he was thankful that his mind was up to the challenge.

‘Okay, what do I need to do?’ he asked himself, aware that the next few moments were critical to his success in getting out of there.

Harry soon came up with his objective: he would free Cedric, somehow manage to get Pettigrew or some sort of proof of his existence to free Sirius, and then get out of there before Voldemort – or whatever that sickly form was – knew what happened/killed him.

‘Is the cup still a portkey?’ he asked himself, recognizing that he needed a way to get them out of there fast.

However, Pettigrew worked surprisingly quickly under the fear of his master and Cedric’s cry broke Harry away from his thoughts.

Cedric was now conscious, bleeding, and tied to a demonic statue that Pettigrew was walking away from and towards the now lit cauldron, grasping a shiny silver dagger covered in what must have been Cedric’s blood.

“Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken,” Pettigrew began to intone as he dripped the thick red liquid into the bubbling brew.

Harry watched, petrified and unable to move as Wormtail then summoned bones of the father before slicing his own hand off to add to the shimmering liquid that had changed color with each new addition.

When the last ingredient that was the crippled form of Voldemort was added, Harry finally managed to break the trance of what was happening before him and jumped into action.

His wand quickly shot off a stunner that nailed Pettigrew from behind, taking him out instantly while the cauldron started to smoke and shoot fire into the sky. Knowing that he didn’t have much time, he ran to Cedric and cut the bonds that held him upright. Cedric’s body sagged into Harry’s smaller frame and the younger wizard strained to remain upright while using his wand to summon Pettigrew’s limp form to his feet.

The next moment, everything changed and the cauldron started morphing into the form of a tall male.

Harry, staring into the red, bloodthirsty eyes of his parent’s killer, had just called the Triwizard Cup to him when a murderous roar sounded in his ears as the portkey began to tug on his navel and they were all transported to Hogwarts.

 

**Let me know what you think!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: First, welcome! Second, thanks for the reviews and suggestions. I am going back through and editing some things now that Chapter 7 has been posted to make the story flow better and accommodate some of the suggestions that I have received. One of my problems with writing (that I hope to get better with) is not fully describing the events that my mind envisions because my clinical and scientific background forces me to use very different language. This will be a work in progress, but I can and will go back and make the necessary edits.  
>  Ron and Dumbledore are very confusing characters to me. I may end up tweaking things just a bit to make it more enjoyable for myself to write them into this. Also, Cornelius is so much fun to write as an idiot. How he became Minister is beyond me.

**Standard disclaimer about not owning anything; I am so thankful for JKR and all that she did for us. She gave us one of the greatest gifts, and so many people have taken to this site and played brilliantly with her creation. We should have a JKR day and it should be a global holiday!**

            Harry collapsed to his knees on the ground with Cedric slumped against him, too tired to even lift his head off of Harry’s shoulder. The crowd around them grew silent and still as they reacted to the sudden appearance of the bruised and bloodied teenagers along with an unknown man that few among them recognized.

            It didn’t take long for the gasps to start as Cedric retched violently, suffering from the effects of losing so much blood and then being subjected to the effects of travel via portkey. Harry gently rubbed small circles into his former competitor’s back while having enough thought to grasp the back of Pettigrew’s neck forcefully, he wasn’t going to take any chances with the little rat getting away this time.

            Madam Pomfrey was instantly at the scene and began tending to Cedric’s injuries while Harry’s attention was drawn to the approaching forms of Albus Dumbledore and the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, whose eyes darted nervously between Harry and the man that he recognized as Peter Pettigrew. Soon, Albus and the Minister engaged in a brief and animated discussion that Albus had surreptitiously made private with a quick flick of his wand that remained at his side.

            Meanwhile, professor’s McGonagall and Snape began directing the hysterical crowd away from the scene and towards the school, but Amos Diggory fought against the throng to get to his boy. In all of the confusion, no one noticed Mad Eye Moody abscond into the night to return to his master, unwilling to have the soon-to-be awakened Pettigrew reveal his true identity once he was questioned.

            Harry felt like he was in a daze as he watched the events taking place around him. Though, he did managed to catch Hermione’s eyes and conveyed that they would most certainly be talking later about things. Just a brief glance at her, and the increased mental faculties that he now possessed thanks to the, unbeknownst to him, departure of the horcrux that had been within him, was enough to work out that she was already processing the situation herself. She was fast narrowing down a list of possibilities of what must have happened – or whom Harry must have met – if he had returned in this state with Pettigrew by his side. Ron, however, remained scratching his head, confused at how the final task had ended with his old pet but slowly working things out for himself.

            “Harry, what happened?” Dumbledore asked, ending his mini debate with Cornelius over what Pettigrew’s presence would now mean for one, Sirius Black.

            The Boy Who Lived blinked, and refocused his attention away from his departing friends and towards the inquiry that he now faced at the hands of the Headmaster and the Minister of Magic over what had just occurred.

            “What was that, professor?” Harry asked, not hearing the question.

            Dumbledore opened his mouth to repeat the question, but given more time to think about his surroundings, which now included Amos Diggory and Cedric, who was being tended to by Pomfrey, and Molly and Arthur Weasley because of their concern for Harry, he thought a little privacy may be in order.

            But first things first, he decided. He placed Pettigrew in an unbreakable body bind so that he couldn’t go anywhere because he would certainly be questioned after Harry.

            After that, he motioned for Harry to join him and Cornelius away from everyone else but not so far that Albus lost sight of Pettigrew.

            “Harry, are you all right? What happened?” he asked, wanting to find out how Harry was before he started asking him for details.

            Harry debated whether he wanted to open with getting hit by the killing curse or leading up to it, and thought the later sounded more appropriate given the situation.

“I think I am fine professor. Though, to answer your question about everything that happened, I think Pettigrew would be of more help in this matter than me.”

“Don’t worry, Harry, we will be speaking with him as well,” Dumbledore replied, giving a hard look at Cornelius who cowered slightly. The Minister would not be able to explain away the man’s presence and would now have to entertain the original claim that Sirius Black was, and had been, innocent.

“But right now,” Dumbledore continued, “what can you tell us?”

Harry began his tale.

“Well, Cedric and I both reached the cup at the same time; however, neither one of us knew it was supposed to be a portkey.” Harry raised his eyebrow, hoping Dumbledore would elaborate.

Albus grimaced somewhat.

“It was arranged that the winner would find him or herself instantly out of the maze and present for the victory celebration in front...”

But Albus never finished and looked around, knowing at once that someone had been impersonating Mad Eye Moody because he had been the one to bring the Triwizard Cup, born out of the Goblet of Fire, into the maze and must have altered the portkey destination at the last minute. However, Mad Eye had long since departed and Albus returned his gaze to Harry.

Harry had been following Albus closely, and picked up that some important conclusion had just been reached by the Headmaster. He decided to take a chance and ask his observation and subsequent thought process aloud.

“Who was it professor that placed the portkey destination?”

Albus looked at him curiously, although Harry had sometimes asked thoughtful questions – like after the incidence with the stone about why Voldemort had come after him in the first place – this insight was particularly astute.

Cornelius looked between them, confused as to why they were discussing portkeys when Albus had asked Harry what had happened; he wanted to know what Peter Pettigrew was doing here and that it wouldn’t harm his political reputation.

Albus relented, concentrating on Harry’s faded scar and coming to a few conclusions that went unnoticed this time.

“Mad Eye placed the destination, Harry – although I believe that someone has been impersonating him all year.”

With that, he again flicked his wand and an ethereal, blue phoenix erupted from his wand and flew off towards the castle.

Harry raised his eyebrow again.

“Just a hunch,” Albus replied.

Knowing that Albus wouldn’t offer more, Harry continued where he had left off, but paid close attention to Albus’ reaction as he went along.

“We appeared in this cemetery. It was eerie and I felt like I had been there before. Almost instantly, Pettigrew appeared, carrying what looked to be a deformed baby – but my scar erupted in pain.”

Harry hesitated slightly before resuming, unsure of how this would sound and not really wanting to open up about what had been a very personal experience to him that he had yet to go over for himself a second time. Though, he didn’t feel like he had much a choice in the matter.

“Whatever Pettigrew was holding told him to ‘kill the spare’ in a chilling voice that I heard once before, and every time a Dementor gets too close.” Harry gave Albus a look.

Recognition passed briefly through Dumbledore’s eyes and kept going.

“Pettigrew unleashed the killing curse at Cedric, but it didn’t hit him; it hit me.”

Cornelius gasped, “my dear boy. How are you still here?” he blurted without thinking but recovering quickly, “are you sure it was the killing curse? You seem to have a proclivity with surviving that,” he stated, digging his hole deeper and deeper.

Harry just nodded at him.

“The next time I opened my eyes, everything was white, and I felt healthy and complete, more so than I have ever felt. Though, there was this black mass off in the corner that was there as well, but a voice told me not to bother with it. I knew the voice: it was my mum’s. I turned to face her and we talked briefly…” Harry trailed off. He had decided not to share everything.

“I thought I was dead. Though, she did say it was important how I ended up in that place, but then everything started to fade and I was back in the cemetery.”

Harry needed a moment. Cornelius looked at Albus, clearly not knowing what to think, but he did see genuine concern and care in Albus’ face over what Harry had said he had just been through. This time, Cornelius wisely let his disbelieving comments remain unsaid.

Albus didn’t comment on Harry’s tale of the beyond, but it was because Cornelius was there and Albus didn’t want him aware of his pretty solid idea on the importance of it all.

If everything before now had shocked them, well, Harry was about ready to drop the biggest one of all.

“Back in the Cemetery, I heard Wormtail arguing with that chilling voice, going back and forth about getting a body and needing blood. I think they were going to use my blood, but as they thought I was dead they went for Cedric’s. From there, a big cauldron was conjured and Cedric’s blood, and some bones of the father, and then Pettigrew’s hand – from a willing servant he called it – were added together before the decrepit person was added.”

Harry had them completely mesmerized with his description of events so far.

“I knew that I had to act then; the potion was shooting off all of these sparks and I stunned Pettigrew from behind and went over to Cedric and freed him and then summoned Pettigrew and then the cup to me. And then we were returned here,” he concluded.

Cornelius exhaled; it had been quite a tale, but Harry wasn’t finished yet.

“And the last thing I saw was the cauldron forming into a tall man with crimson eyes. I believe it was Voldemort,” he surmised, too tired to care about how his story would be received now. It wasn’t like people listened to him anyways or Sirius would have been freed last year.

“Ahhhhhh,” Cornelius screeched at the Dark Lord’s name. Dumbledore, however, was contemplative and showed no outward reaction.

“It can’t be my boy, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was killed.”

Harry had some choice words ready at the man who had more or less just called him a liar. How else did you explain the evidence Harry had come back with?

Fortunately, Dumbledore was quick to intervene.

“Now, Cornelius. We have heard one account, and I believe Pettigrew will only add to it. I suggest we send Harry and Cedric to the infirmary and then we can question him together and get to the bottom of this.”

“Well, I,” the Minister fumbled, not really used to taking orders from people unless they were disguised as suggestions that would, ultimately, benefit him.

It was only after the continued glare from Dumbledore and Harry’s continued presence that forced him into action. “Very well, that sounds reasonable,” he tried to recover, and straightened his clothes in a pompous manner.

Dumbledore then approached Harry and placed both of his hands on his shoulders, looking him straight in the eyes and speaking to him like an adult.

“Are you going to be okay for a few moments? We will send you to the infirmary with Cedric and Madam Pomfrey; I have to imagine that you would like to rest for a while, considering everything you have been through tonight.”

Harry nodded, thankful for the concern but feeling a weird sensation right at the back of his eyes that he quickly shook off, as Albus’ eyes broke contact and he released Harry.

By this time, McGonagall and Snape had returned. Minerva helped Madam Pomfrey transport her patients to the hospital wing while Severus went with Cornelius and Albus, leaving a floating Pettigrew, bound and unconscious in front of them.

Once he was in the infirmary wing and sitting comfortably on a bed, Harry felt the full extent of his tiredness from the maze and the outrageous events that had followed.

Why was Voldemort after him and how did he keep ending up in these impossible situations each June? Even though his body was tired, his mind was racing along and Harry finally had the time to examine his newfound awareness of things that he had never fully noticed before. It all led back to one thing: what had happened with the killing curse that allowed him to meet his mum? What was important about how he had gotten there?

‘Does it have something to do with my scar?’ he thought, raising his hand to trace what he knew by heart the pattern to be.

‘It feels different,’ he told himself. ‘And my mind is so much clearer; it is so much easier to think now. I never noticed how odd it was before because I never knew anything else.’

‘But again, how is my scar involved, and what was that thing with my mum? Perhaps Dumbledore knows. If it involves me I deserve to know.’

His thoughts were interrupted by Madam Pomfrey coming over after having finished with Cedric, who was now chatting quietly with his father, and was now prodding at Harry with her wand, scanning him over for signs of harm.

“You appear to be okay, but I would like to keep both of you here overnight for observation,” she decreed.

Harry had spent too much time in the hospital wing and knew that he couldn’t protest her orders; the woman’s word was final in this place. He would have to wait until later to meet with Hermione and Ron and tell them what happened.

A few minutes later and Amos reluctantly made his way out at the urging of the mediwizard who emphasized that her patients needed rest now and that there was nothing to worry about.

Soon, Harry and Cedric were all alone and sitting on neighboring beds. They had almost died together and had just barely escaped and neither knew quite what to say to each other and just remained staring awkwardly, each waiting for the other to break the tension.

Luckily, they were interrupted by the arrival of Albus Dumbledore, who was quickly met by Poppy at the door, inquiring as to why he was disturbing her charges at this hour.

He politely informed her that they deserved to be told the full story of what had happened so that they could begin to process the traumatic events sooner.

She relented and told him that he had ten minutes and not a second longer and went back into her office that led to her own quarters.

“Harry, Cedric,” Dumbledore began.

“First, know that I am sorry you both had to face what you did tonight. It could not have been easy.”

The boys shared another look with each other and Cedric began to relive the horror he had felt when he thought that Harry had died in front of his very eyes.

“I thought you died,” Cedric whispered.

Cedric’s legs started twitching and his eyes grew wet. Harry knew how he felt; he knew what it was like to watch someone die before your very eyes and be powerless to stop it. He got up and went over to Cedric’s bed and sat down besides the older and larger boy, offering the comfort of his closeness.

“I thought I did too,” he responded softly, his outstretched hand placed comfortingly on Cedric’s arm, who accepted it gladly.

Dumbledore’s blue eyes began to sparkle at the bond, whatever it turned out to be, that was forming in front of him.

He was loath to interrupt this, but he didn’t doubt for a second that Madam Pomfrey wouldn’t throw him out of there, even if he was the Headmaster.

“Second, I want to share with you what happened, feeling you both have a right to know the story as we have heard it so far. Pettigrew has been questioned under Veritaserum in the presence of myself, the Minister, Severus Snape, and Amelia Bones, who is the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He confessed to working with Voldemort to help return him to a permanent body along with Barty Crouch Jr, who has been impersonating Mad Eye Moody since the beginning of the year.”

It all made sense to Harry now: the name on the map, the disheveled appearance of Crouch Sr., and the memory of the trial.

“So the man was a Death Eater,” Harry stated, and again, Dumbledore wondered just how much the horcrux had impacted Harry up until now. The Headmaster would wager that soon he would be neck and neck with Hermione if he kept up this improvement.

Dumbledore nodded, but his face took on a grave expression.

“I’m afraid, however, that Pettigrew’s tale does corroborate with yours Harry; Voldemort has indeed been returned to a permanent form.”

Cedric began shivering at that, having enough wit himself to know that it was his blood that had been used to bring the other man back.

“What does that mean for me?” Cedric asked, now holding Harry’s hand.

“I can’t be sure,” Dumbledore responded in a warm and caring tone. “Magical blood always has surprising, if not volatile side effects when used in potions. Nothing major to worry about, though, I assure you,” he comforted the sixth year Hufflepuff.

“On a happier note he has confessed to his role regarding your Godfather, Harry. Amelia assures me that Sirius is for all intents and purposes a free man, but Pettigrew will have to be given a public trial to ameliorate the fears of the public regarding Mr. Black.”

It was the first good news that Harry had heard all night.

“Really?” his face lit up, a relieved smile settling on his face at the thought of leaving The Dursley’s once and for all.

Dumbledore nodded, knowing the implications that this would have on Harry’s summer residence.

“Well, anyways, I must be going. Get some rest and things will look better in the morning.” He turned and his metallic blue robe swirled in response and danced after him as he made his way out.

Harry’s joy was cut short when he took notice of the crestfallen expression on Cedric’s face.

He squeezed his hand slightly, relieved when Cedric responded and looked up into his eyes. It was then that Harry realized two things now that they were alone for the night: the first was that Cedric was beautiful; and the second was that he was attracted to him. Harry was attracted to another boy in a way that, at first, startled him but the longer he thought about it the more it felt right. There had always been something off about how Cho had made him feel, as if it wasn’t really something that deep down he had wanted for himself.

The sudden attraction didn’t scare or confuse him, even though he had very little experience in these matters. Harry had become used to responding to the events he had encountered at Hogwarts, and to him, this was no different. Sure, he may not have ever thought about another person, let alone a guy, with this intensity before – but then again, he couldn’t remember ever feeling this was about a woman before either. So, Harry did the only thing that he could in this unknown situation: he went with it.

And Cedric moved closer to Harry, needing comfort after never having experienced anything remotely similar to what had just happened. Harry was acutely aware of how close Cedric was getting and how their hands were intertwined and they both sat side by side, practically cuddling, at the head of Cedric’s bed. They didn’t speak for the rest of the night, and before long, they both drifted off to sleep and Harry’s head rested comfortably on Cedric’s chest.

 

**Let me know what you think! Cedric will be two years above Harry in this fic. But that doesn’t mean nothing will happen between them. I think it would be reasonable for Harry to discover his sexuality before moving on into a real relationship, even if we have some ways to go before that happens. I picked Charlie Weasley because I have always seen Harry needing someone older because of the events in his life. Thanks for all the feedback so far!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: First, welcome! Second, wow, you guys and gals are awesome! Thanks for the support and encouragement. 
> 
> Standard disclaimer about not owning anything; I am so thankful for JKR and all that she did for us. She gave us one of the greatest gifts, and so many people have taken to this site and played brilliantly with her creation. We should have a JKR day and it should be a global holiday!

Harry breathed in the musky sent of Cedric Diggory and his eyes fluttered open, his head still resting on the other boy’s chest. As awareness returned to him he noticed that two arms encircled him and held him tightly and he could feel the rhythmic rise and fall of the chest that he was lying upon. The position he found himself in didn’t feel overtly sexual since both of them were fully clothed and likely had clung to the other out of the need to feel safe after their run-in with You-Know-Who the previous evening.

Harry moved his head, and snuggled deeper into Cedric’s embrace, thankful that he had survived yet another climatic series of events and not ready to begin processing anything just yet.

However, Cedric then began to stir and Harry felt the arms around him stiffen as Cedric discovered the potentially cumbersome position that they were in.

The next few seconds were awkward, as neither knew what the next steps for them should be, but Harry gradually felt the arms around him loosen and fingers now began tracing unknown patterns into his back. It seemed that Cedric was just going along with things as well.

They both just lied there, not wanting to disturb the moment and both pretending that what they were doing was perfectly normal. They were trying not to think about this new reality that included a potential attraction to someone that they had never considered before since neither Harry nor Cedric had ever shown any inclination towards a member of the same sex before. It wasn’t just the physical part that was brand new, it was the intimacy of the position, the comfort that they found in one another. Ultimately, this connection kept away any of the big questions that remained because it _felt_ right and was something that they needed.

Eventually, both heard noises coming from Madam Pomfrey’s office, and Harry knew from his previous stays that she would soon begin her morning rounds and began to disentangle himself from Cedric lest she found them like this. As he moved away he briefly caught Cedric’s eyes and found so many emotions in them that he had a hard time discerning them.

Cedric looked confused, scared, happy, fearful, and that was only the tip of what Harry could pick out. Harry logically thought that despite the other boy being older, he had had a much harder time processing the events in the cemetery, whereas Harry couldn’t honestly say that he was surprised that he had ended up in yet another pickle. Those were just common to his life when in the wizarding world. And then when you added in how they had spent the night, well, Harry was sure that some of those emotions were also coming off of him.

‘But at least,’ Harry thought, ‘they were in the same boat for whatever was developing between them.’

Harry decided to take the first step and reached out to squeeze Cedric’s hand and smiled at him, grateful for his company and feeling the surge of hormones in response to how close they had been. Harry’s eyes were warm and comforting with a dash of excitement at this newfound attraction. Cedric responded to Harry’s hand and his eyes began to shed off the more fearful emotions that wondered if Harry didn’t feel the same way as he did – even though those feelings were quite new to him.

Their hands lingered for a few seconds, long enough for Cedric to rub his thumb over Harry’s in a gently yet obvious way that admitted his feeling towards the other boy along with his returning smile and reddened cheeks.

Harry blushed slightly as well, and made it to his bed just in time for Poppy’s mourning checkup.

“Right, how are you both feeling then?” she began, checking first on Cedric to make sure the blood replenishing potion had worked before moving onto Harry.

“Fine,” both boys uttered in near unison, both far more preoccupied with the other boy and shooting furtive glances at each other whenever Poppy had her back turned to record something in their log.

“Very good,” she said and retreated to her office, telling them that she would be right back.

Cedric and Harry barely had enough time to look at each other and smirk over how serious Madam Pomfrey always took every little aspect of her job when she reappeared, two steaming hot trays of food floating in front of her.

“Here, I think it would be better for you to eat breakfast here this morning – the school is buzzing about what happened and I don’t think all of that excitement is right for either of you at the moment.”

Both nodded their heads, thankful that she had thought that far out - neither boy wanted to face the curious glances of the student body just yet. Besides, this way they would get to spend a few more minutes in each other’s company, hopefully allowing them to have some understanding between them so they didn’t spend the rest of the day with a nagging doubt hovering over their head.

Again, Madam Pomfrey returned to her office and let the boys eat their food.

The breakfast was a simple porridge, and while it wasn’t too exciting to eat, it felt good to put something in their stomachs nonetheless.

“So,” Cedric began this time, “how are _you_ doing, Harry?”

“Not bad, considering…” Harry replied between bites.

“At least Pettigrew was able to be brought back and questioned. You know, he was the one that betrayed my parents and killed those muggles – not Sirius Black, who is my Godfather and would never do anything to hurt me.”

The statement didn’t quite shock Cedric, after all he had just met Voldemort and so he had a new bar to compare things to.

“So, does that mean you will live with him? Don’t you live with your muggle relatives now?” Cedric had finished his porridge and was sipping on some of the hot tea that had also been provided.

“Yeah, I hope to live with him, but I expect for some reason I will have to return to The Dursleys until Pettigrew’s trial.” Harry had hoped to never have to return to them, but he reasoned that this would take time. Honestly, he was just happy that it would happen now and that Sirius could be cleared of the crimes that he didn’t commit. To him, a little more time with his aunt and her family was easily worth never having to see them again.

Harry was nursing his own tea, savoring the taste and enjoying the warmth the cup provided to his hands.

Cedric smiled at Harry’s comments; he could see the joy in the younger boy’s eyes at the thought of living with the man, even though most people believed him to be a mass murderer and slightly deranged.

Cedric then found himself quite nervous as he tried to formally address the past few hours and what had been happening between them.

“H-harry,” he started shakily, causing the other boy to look up with a curious expression on his face.

“About last night and this morning,” he gestured between them and then to the bed that he was lying on. “Um, what was that, I mean, is that okay?” It was still difficult to ask a question that concerned a pretty strong emotion that you had.

Cedric’s gray eyes searched Harry’s out, eager and a little anxious at his response. Even though he was sure he was reading the signs right, it always helped to have a verbal confirmation.

Harry’s cheeks began to feel hot, and he repositioned himself on his own bed.

“I, well, yes?” he replied, not really intending his response to come out like a question. He calmed himself and tried again.

“Yes, I think it’s okay. I don’t know what it was, but I didn’t have any objections to it.” Harry’s emerald eyes shone as he met Cedric’s.

“I don’t have any objections to it either,” Cedric smiled, “though I can’t say I have ever considered something like this before with another guy.”

“Me neither,” Harry replied, honestly, but having a good idea of why that was or at least what had changed in him. He knew that he should be more shocked, more concerned at a sudden attraction to a member of the same sex, but he couldn’t find it in him to care. He had already spent so much of his life without having other people around that really cared for him – so, he just didn’t see the point in doing it now. He was already used to unexpected things popping up and then people judging him for it. At least this could bring joy and happiness to his life.

He was really wondering just how much that scar had affected him over the years and what other changes or differences were in his future. He supposed that he would face them as they happened, but that didn’t mean that he wouldn’t try and get ahead of the curve for once.

Both were lost in their own thoughts while staring at the other, working out whatever problems that they might have had when Madam Pomfrey interrupted again. Then, both fixed their faces and turned to her, their cheeks still having the faintest tinge of red to them.

“So, if you want some privacy getting back to your common room, I suggest you go now while everyone is still at breakfast. Also, Harry, the Headmaster wants to speak with you at lunchtime in his office. Got that?”

Harry nodded while standing up and waited for Cedric to join him before they both headed towards the door.

“Take it easy,” she called out after them, “I don’t want to see you until next year. Got that Potter?”

“Of course, Madam Pomfrey. Always a pleasure.” He waved, somewhat cheekily. But then he had spent more time here than anyone else in the school, save Hermione or one of the other petrified students. However, he was fairly certain that he had had more of a relationship with the matron than any other students and could put his toe just slightly over the line.

Cedric opened the infirmary door after thanking her as well and they both exited into the hallway. They walked side by side until they would have to part ways to get back to their houses.

“So, what now?” Cedric dug his hands into his pockets, planning on showering first thing as he noticed just how dirty his clothes were and wanting to remove all traces from last night. Well, perhaps not all traces, he was rather enjoying his time with Harry – even if he had no idea what to do about it.

“I don’t know.” Harry’s hands were crossed in front of him as they walked, his mind working overtime with things that he didn’t really need to think about in the infirmary, like what school would be like now and what the students had been told. It had been a little easier just focusing on things with Cedric and not having to worry about the rest of the world.

“Meet me in the astronomy tower tonight?” Harry asked, knowing it was their best bet at privacy and excited with the prospect of spending time with the other boy in a place where they wouldn’t be constantly interrupted so that they could work through whatever was going on.

“Okay, what time? It will have to be after curfew but I can get away then, no problem.”

“Midnight?” Harry had his invisibility cloak and knew that Cedric was well versed in charms and would likely have no problem disillusioning himself.

“I can do that,” Cedric asked as they reached the stairs in which one would go up and the other would go down.

They stopped and faced each other, each standing with just a little bit of tension in their stance.

Neither wanted to say goodbye, but now really was their best chance to get back to their rooms without being inundated by the masses.

There wasn’t much distance between them and their eyes found comfort and understanding in the others, which lessoned the jitters and allowed them to close the remaining distance that separated them. The hug was brief but important, and each noticed the jolt of hormones that resulted from the situation.

“I’ll see you later, Cedric,” Harry said in parting.

“I look forward to it,” Cedric smirked and each went their separate ways.

Once Harry was out of sight of Cedric, he raced up to the Gryffindor Tower and retrieved his invisibility cloak and the Marauder’s Map because, while he wanted to see Ron and Hermione, he didn’t want to see anyone else just yet.

He had just made back into the hall and outside of the portrait of the Fat Lady when he heard the rising noise of his housemates down the hall. Quickly, he threw on his cloak and stood out of the way along the wall as people started to pass him. He waited until he spotted the bushy brown hair of Hermione and realized that he would need a plan to signal them without being seen by the others.

Unfortunately, the only thing he could do was to take a chance and carefully dodge the crowd as he made his way to them and hoped that she would take the hint of him brushing into her lightly and resting his hand on her arm.

“Harry?” she whispered, having expected to run into him at any time since she hadn’t seen him since last night and knowing that crowds were not really something that he fancied.

“Yeah,” he replied, standing in front of her so that he was out of the way until the rest of the students made their way past.

“Wazgoingon?” Ron blurted at the sudden stop, his mouth still full from the bits of toast that he had brought with him. It was only because of how long they had been friends that either Harry or Hermione understood his garbled speech that occurred when he was feasting on something.

“Harry!” she mouthed at him, waiting until Ron’s mind put two and two together.

The trio remained in the hall and Hermione took up a pointless conversation with the youngest male Weasley that gave them a reason to remain in the hallway until they were alone and the rest of their house had passed through the portrait.

“Care for a walk outside?” Harry ventured, chancing other people seeing him and removing the cloak.

Hermione quickly threw her arms around his neck.

“We were so worried,” her voice sounded in his ear.

Harry greeted Ron and smiled at him and gently rubbed the back of Hermione, responding to her concern over him. The hug ended and she looked him up and down, trying to discern what injuries he had had this time

Harry shook his head, knowing exactly what Hermione was doing.

“I’m fine,” he told her. “Well, more or less, but let’s go somewhere else and talk.”

Harry led them down the stairs and then outside, where they ended under a tree that was very close to the edge of the lake. Some of the roots even rose above ground and allowed someone to sit in a position where they could dip their toes in the chilly water.

The few students that they passed on the way there stared openly at him, but thankfully, kept their questions to themselves.

“How was breakfast?” Harry asked, wondering what the school was talking about.

Hermione obliged, knowing that her own questions would soon be answered.

“Well, the arrival of the Daily Prophet certainly started things off. They discussed Pettigrew and his confession, highlighting the formal trial will take place and that Sirius Black is no longer a wanted man and will be fully pardoned after the trial. It was very light though on how Pettigrew turned up and nothing else was really discussed.”

Harry can’t say he was surprised; he didn’t expect the Minister would want people to know that Voldemort was back, though he didn’t see how that could be avoided at the trial. Harry caught Hermione’s eyes, pleading him to fill her in with his side of the story.

“Voldemort’s back,” he stated. Ron swallowed nervously at the thought while Hermione looked contemplative, and in truth a little frightened as well.

Harry then went into a more in-depth version of events, talking about their arrival in the cemetery, to meeting his mom, which Hermione had gasped at that and grabbed onto Harry knowing how emotional it must have been for him.

“It’s okay, Hermione.” Harry looked up at the leaves in the tree and leaned back to rest his head on his arms.

“It was weird, seeing her like I see you both right now. It felt so weird to me. I haven’t really had the time to process it yet. I don’t know how I survived the killing curse again, but my mom alluded to it being important how I ended up there. It freaks me out a little thinking that I was dead or almost dead. But I suppose I’m okay with it because she was there and I finally got a chance to be with her.”

Hermione and Ron shared a look; they had no idea what to say to him.

Harry kept going. “I got to go back, and I feel different now. I feel like my mind is clearer and thinking about things is so much easier now.”

Harry looked around for a moment to make sure that no one was around them.

“I think it was something to do with my scar. Here, look.”

He sat up and brushed his hair away, revealing the faded scar that had been much more vibrant just a day before.

“I can barely see it!” Hermione exclaimed and Ron scratched his chin; even he had noticed how faint it had become.

“It doesn’t even ache anymore. Anyways,” Harry shrugged and moved the conversation along, noticing the attempted expression of support in Ron’s face. He was trying his best, and Harry appreciated it. Ron could be extremely jealous and thick at times, but he was Harry’s oldest friend and that meant something to him.

Harry then described the other events in the cemetery leading up until they arrived back in the maze in front of the crowd. He neglected to tell them anything about Cedric or how Harry was beginning to realize that he was gay. There was something to be said about too much too soon and keeping some things to yourself.

And so the trio sat there and talked more about the events that occurred the previous night before moving onto some discussion about what the future held.

“I don’t know, Hermione. Now, that he is back, I don’t know what to expect. It seems like he went out of his way to get me to that cemetery. I mean, we had someone that was impersonating a teach here to make sure I ended up there!”

That had been the ultimate betrayal to Hermione, thinking that her education had been compromised; though, she had to agree with Harry that Voldemort _was_ going out of his way when it came to Harry Potter. It was very peculiar, now that she really thought about all of the occurrences over the years.

“Perhaps we should train more or something, since we keep finding ourselves in these situations. Who knows what we can expect to have happen, you know?”

Even Ron had to admit that that probably wasn’t such a bad idea, considering everything they had faced up until now.

“Okay, mate,” Ron added, shocking Hermione by continuing with, “we should probably start focusing on school more too, I guess. What use is extra training if we don’t have a firm grasp with the basics.”

Harry and Hermione just stared at Ron with their mouths half open.

“What? I _do_ realize the importance of education, even though I sometimes don’t feel like doing my work because they assign way too much. In this instance though, it isn’t just about grades, I for one want to survive whatever’s coming. I wonder what You-Know-Who will do now?” Ron asked, leaning back into the tree.

To the others it might have seemed that Ron had changed overnight, but he had been observant this year after realizing his jealously with Harry had not as much to do with his friend as it did with himself. It had taken him time to realize that he needed to grow up a little and this was the perfect time to do so.

Hermione let go of the breath that she had been holding, turning it into a laugh that kept going as the buildup of tension in all of them loosened and allowed them to relax.

“But not today,” Ron added with his usual, lazy grin. “But we will start soon, we will come up with something” he added, and both Harry and Hermione approved, still chuckling and realizing why they were all friends.

They sat there until lunchtime when they began to make their way back to the castle before Harry remembered that the Headmaster wanted to see him.

Relieved at not having to face the school quite yet, he excused himself from his friends and told them to meet him by the lake after and that he would let them know what Dumbledore had wanted with him.

A quick detour around the usual route that students took to get the Great Hall and Harry found himself in front of the gargoyle that blocked the circular staircase that would lead him to his destination.

After several run-throughs of popular muggle candy, he found that ‘Hershey Kisses’ had been the magic word.

He quickly ascended the stairs and knocked.

“Come in.”

Harry opened the door and made his way in, noting that Dumbledore was seated behind his desk.

He had barely made it a few steps when his Godfather, who had been waiting out of view in case someone other than Harry had walked in, swept him up in a very tight embrace.

“Pup,” Sirius breathed, happier than he had been in a long time with Pettigrew being found, but worried at what Harry had been through in making it possible.

“Oh, Sirius,” Harry sighed, returning the hug and holding on tightly.

“Wonderful,” Albus clapped, directing their attention to the chairs he wanted them to sit in. Naturally, Sirius moved Harry into the chair and then stood at his side, his hand never leaving Harry’s shoulder.

“I can’t tell you how happy this reunion makes me, and hopefully, soon, it will be able to be in public as well,” The old man remarked.

“But before that can happen, Pettigrew’s trial needs to take place, and I’m afraid Harry, that…”

“That I need to return to The Dursleys for part of the summer?” Harry finished, not understanding why he always needed to go there and not surprised in the least with this.

Dumbledore nodded, his twinkling eyes abating with talk of the more serious matter at hand.

Sirius didn’t like that idea; he wanted Harry to go with him immediately, but he had already been through this with Albus.

“I don’t understand why I have to go, Sir,” Harry stated.

Dumbledore sighed. It would seem that the removal of the horcrux in his scar had freed up a lot of Harry’s mind, which would make hiding things from him until Albus thought he was ready that much harder. It wasn’t because he wanted to control him, per say; but they were dealing with very important matters and that he had spent years guarding. He wanted to make sure the boy could handle them.

“Harry, there are things that need to be done for your benefit, and technically, while it is very likely, Sirius hasn’t been cleared yet.”

Harry sat there for a moment, thinking hard about things, when it occurred to him that he could also play a little hardball with Albus or at least begin getting his feet wet.

“On one condition,” he bravely put forth. If he could face Voldemort, then he could certainly be frank with Albus.

Albus had a feeling he knew where this was going, and thought it was well played and very reasonable for Harry to attempt it.

“Very well, what do you want to know?” Sirius’ eyes bounced between the two.

“Why is Voldemort after me and what is up with my scar?” he put bluntly.

Sirius glanced nervously at Dumbledore, now knowing what at least part of the topic was about.

Dumbledore rose from his seat and moved around the desk, coming to lean on the front of it before replying.

“Those are very serious questions, Harry… but ones I think you have earned the right to know. I just ask that you give me time to put a response together so that we can do it properly, and I must make a request of my own?”

Harry nodded, not having expected to get this type of answer and curious at what the stipulation was.

“You must learn Occlumency before I tell you; this information is everything.” Dumbledore was firm; he would not budge on this.

“That would seem reasonable, Albus,” Sirius spoke up.

Harry was unfamiliar with the term. “What is that?”

“It is the art and skill of protecting the knowledge inside your mind, Harry.” Dumbledore answered.

Well, Sirius was right, it did seem reasonable, but it still stung a little that there was information about him that was being withheld.

“You promise that the moment I learn this that you will tell me?” Harry asked, wanting no room for delay going forward. Though, he did accept that Albus probably would require him to master this skill before divulging what he knew. No matter, he would become an expert then.

“I promise that when you can block my mental attack, sufficiently, then I will tell you everything that I know. Sirius, I trust that you will help him with this immediately?”

Ideally, Albus would have preferred Severus to provide the tuition so that he could get an inside peak into Harry’s mind, but since Sirius had to be a master Occlumens to be an Auror, he knew it would not have gone over well. Albus had gotten so far in this life because he knew what battles to fight and which were too costly for the Greater Good.

At least Harry would get to spend some time with his Godfather at The Durselys.

“Of course, Albus.”

They talked for a bit longer about the upcoming trial, which would take place in a week and Dumbledore thought that Harry’s time at Little Whinging would not extend past two weeks before he could live with Sirius. Dumbledore conceded that Harry would lose the protection of his mother’s sacrifice, but he knew it would be a losing battle against the pair of them. Besides, Grimmauld Place was a good backup.

“Lastly, Harry, I want to tell you that the Ministry is keeping Voldemort’s return under wraps for the time being. The DMLE is quietly increasing its force, but it was decided that it would cause too much of a panic at this time. I have already spoken with Cedric about this.”

“Oh, um” Harry started, but he was waved off.

“I expected that you would have already told Ron and Hermione, but just promise me that they will keep it to themselves also?”

Harry nodded.

“Splendid, and Harry, if they also learn Occlumency, I think it would help you in having friends that you could talk about things with, if you wanted to.” Albus knew that the best way to keep someone that was potentially difficult to control under your control was to make them think that you were giving them special favors, and Harry was too young to realize that yet. He fell for it hook, line, and sinker.

“I will let them know, Headmaster.” Harry said thankfully, thinking that this conversation had gone much better than expected.

The old man nodded, “I do believe it is lunchtime,” he clapped his hands and a tray of food appeared. Harry and Sirius ate the thoughtful meal with Albus, talking about this or that, and finishing on how Sirius was going to get to work cleaning Grimmauld Place and making it fit for living, since it was so well protected.

Harry and Sirius said a lengthy goodbye, with Sirius promising to stop by The Dursleys when Harry arrived and that they would set up plans for Occlumency lessons.

Harry left in much better spirits knowing that he would get training, questions answered, and that his time at The Dursleys would be limited to only two weeks.

Ron and Hermione were already waiting for Harry and he filled them in on what had occurred and they mainly spent the afternoon relaxing by the water, and enjoying their last days at Hogwarts since they would be returning home in a few days time.

Before long, it was dinnertime; something that Harry was dreading as he didn’t really care to face everyone all at once, but going along with it to get it over with. The longer he delayed this moment, the harder it would eventually become.

As such, he barely ate amid the stares and side conversations, and the only thing that kept his spirits up were that Ron, Hermione, Neville, Fred and George, and Ginny were all sitting around him, shielding him from the brunt of the inquiry.

Draco was glaring at him ominously from the Slytherin table, but Harry found that he was relatively easy to ignore as long as he focused on his friends.

Cedric seemed to be having an easier time with adjusting to the stares from the rest of the school because Hufflepuffs were notoriously loyal and were sticking by him.

He did manage to catch Cedric’s eyes and his stomach began to flutter in anticipation of meeting with him later, which was also a reason why Harry barely ate anything. It made him feel better that the other boy seemed to be just as nervous because he kept pushing his food back and forth across the plate.

Thankfully, dinner ended and the trio made it back to Gryffindor without incident. A few games of exploding snap were played, which even Hermione participated in considering that exams were done with and she didn’t want to leave Harry’s side.

The hour became late, and Harry waved the other two off to bed, saying that he wanted to stay up a little more – but not to worry and that he would be okay.

They left him reluctantly, which made Harry feel a little guilty that he hadn’t shared this with them yet, but he needed time to figure his sexuality out for himself first.

He was becoming okay with it, but he didn’t want to throw it out there just yet.

           Harry waited until it was close to midnight and then snuck out using his map and cloak and walked quickly in anticipation to his clandestine meeting with Cedric, who showed up a little after Harry had arrived.

            “Hey,” Cedric said, slightly out of breath.

            “Hi,” Harry smiled, moving towards Cedric.

            They reached for the other’s hand at the same time, which broke the nerves that they were both feeling at finally having time to themselves.

            “How was today?” Cedric inquired, leading Harry to the stone balcony that overlooked the lake far below.

            “Some parts were better than others. Yours?”

            “About the same. This part is pretty good,” Cedric said coyly. He looked down at their joined hands and they moved to face each other.

            “I have no idea what is going on between us, Harry. I have never felt this way about another guy before. I just know that when I thought you had died, it was the hardest thing I have ever been through. I wished there had been something more that I could have done or that it had been me instead; I mean, wasn’t the killing curse heading my way?” Cedric ventured, opening up to Harry fully and releasing the weight that was on his chest.

            It was a lot to process, Harry thought.

            “Same here, Cedric. But I don’t mind this,” he gestured between them, his face growing warm.

            “As to your other comment, I don’t think you should feel bad. It was out of both of our control…though, didn’t the cup glow before the curse changed direction?”

            It was a good question and one that Harry had forgotten to ask when he had been back with Dumbledore since he had been more focused on Sirius and all of that.

            “Possibly,” Cedric remarked. He wasn’t too sure anymore, and standing this close to Harry made it hard for him to think about anything else.

            The more they talked, the more they subconsciously moved towards each other until their chests were practically touching.

            Harry looked into Cedric’s eyes, anticipation building up within him as Cedric leaned his head forward. Then, it happened so quickly that neither could have stopped it: their lips met and everything else faded away.

**Let me know what you think! My main goal with Harry/Cedric is for them to have this relationship born out of tragedy. I think they are closer to each other because they shared a pivotal experience – but perhaps rush into things or don’t fully consider if they are right for each other. And for what I want Harry/Charlie to be, I want to lay down this groundwork so that they know they should be together – so let me now what could be added/changed to make that feeling.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: First, welcome! Second, this chapter will be a little shorter because f the last one. I want to keep the lengths of these to around 4k with some chapters longer if it feels right! Thanks for the support and encouragement so far.   
>  Hope you continue to enjoy where I take this and what I have in store for both Harry/Cedric and Harry/Charlie. Though, it will be a while off because I am not comfortable having a 14/15 year old with a 22/23 year old. Also, I will treat Harry/Cedric like a first relationship where the emotions are so intense but then they will start to see they aren’t really right for each other. If you are interested in a Harry/Cedric fic – just go read Soul Magic.
> 
> Standard disclaimer about not owning anything; I am so thankful for JKR and all that she did for us. She gave us one of the greatest gifts, and so many people have taken to this site and played brilliantly with her creation. We should have a JKR day and it should be a global holiday!

Harry lost count of how many kisses that Cedric and him exchanged, the dizzying rush of those soft lips against his own pushed every other thought to the background. He had never known that something besides flying could be so exhilarating; it was as if every nerve was firing at once with excitement.

Eventually, they had to separate; both boys were partially out of breath and their cheeks were very red, but they still didn’t take their eyes or hands off of one another.

“Wow,” Cedric exclaimed softly. “I mean, I had kissed Cho before, but never like this, just wow.” He continued rambling in an adorable manner, caressing Harry’s cheek with his free hand and running his fingers over the small of Harry’s back, making sure that the younger boy stayed right where he was.

At first, Harry had been taken aback slightly at the mention of Cho, but Cedric was practically gushing about what had just occurred between them. He liked to think that he was better than Cho, and it didn’t matter: Cedric was kissing him now, not her.

Harry leaned into Cedric’s embrace and let himself be held, both of Cedric’s arms now wrapped around him and holding him tightly.

“That was incredible,” Harry blushed into Cedric’s neck, taking a deep breath of this scent that he could just not get enough of.

“I never want to stop doing that,” the younger boy said, before initiating a second series and continuing his indescribable first kiss, again losing count of how many times their lips met.

But they couldn’t keep doing that forever, reluctantly stopping but remaining close to each other. Cedric led them away from the balcony to sit on the opposite wall and Harry was content to rest there, seated between Cedric’s legs with his back to Cedric’s stomach.

“What are we going to do for the summer?” Cedric mussed, already beginning to feel a slight pang at the thought that they would soon be leaving Hogwarts for a few months. It was cruel that he and Harry had just discovered the connection between them and this wondrous new activity and then were forced to take time apart; however, the older part of Cedric’s mind told him that it might not be such a bad thing. At least they wouldn’t be rushing into anything, whereas he could easily see that happening here at Hogwarts. If just kissing felt this great, he could only imagine how the other stuff must feel.

“I don’t know,” Harry said quietly, thinking that any visits while he was at The Dursleys would be simply out of the question.

“Dumbledore thinks I can start living with Sirius soon, so in a few weeks maybe we can get together or something at Grimmauld Place or somewhere else.” Harry didn’t see another way around it.

“Hmmm, I don’t know if I can go that long without kissing you; it’s my new favorite thing you know.” Harry didn’t have to look at Cedric to know there was a huge grin on his face.

“Well, we still have a little while,” Harry said, starting to get tired, though not wanting to do anything about it.

“A little while,” Cedric agreed and he moved in and rested his chin on Harry’s shoulder so that their cheeks were resting against one another. He wrapped his arms around the other boy and held him tightly, trying not to think about the future. Both were quite content to remain in this moment and once or twice even stole a few additional kisses before they headed back to their dormitories and parted ways for the evening.

It was very late when they made it back to their respective rooms. Both were incredibly happy and had these ridiculous smiles etched onto their faces, no longer questioning how these feelings had developed between them over such a short amount of time; they were just glad they had survived the cemetery to discover them.

 

Meanwhile, many miles away, a fuming Dark Lord sat, barely able to contain his desire to maim the man that sat before him. No matter how useful Barty Crouch Jr. had been, Lord Voldemort did not take kindly to failure when it cost him the object or person of his desire. It didn’t even matter that Crouch Jr. was not the reason that it failed; he didn’t have what he had wanted and he desperately wanted to take his anger out on someone to make up for it.

The only thing that kept Barty living now was that he was useful to him going forward, and he had a real need for someone that he could trust as he gathered his former strength. Well, perhaps not trust because he didn’t trust anyone, but someone that he was reasonably sure would not fail him, and someone that was certainly more competent than Peter Pettigrew could ever hope to be.

Initially, his plan would have been to call on his Death Eaters, summoning them to the cemetery to watch his triumphant killing of Harry Potter, once and for all proving that he was above all others. Lord Voldemort would no longer be beholden to some insufferable prophecy or some snot-nosed brat.

But that hadn’t happened and so his Death Eaters remained unaware; well, as unaware as they could pretend seeing as how he knew his mark had been growing steadily darker on Pettigrew throughout the year. He didn’t even have to look at Barty’s arm to know that his followers would be able to discern that he was around once more.

They had failed to come look for him, to help him even though he would have loathed them for it; and, so now, he would delay his call to them, punishing them for not believing that he could ever be truly vanquished.

“Barty,” he called after the long silence, knowing that he needed to salvage the fact that his return had not gone unnoticed. It would have been perfect to kill the little brat in secret with no one the wiser, and now, the boy lived and Dumbledore knew of his return. Dumbledore would surely begin moving against him like he had last time, but then, so would Lord Voldemort.

“Yes, master,” his eyes twitched uncontrollably and his tongue flicked out. The man was clearly demented on some level, but he was useful and so it was overlooked.

“Tell me everything you know about Azkaban,” Lord Voldemort commanded. “I have a desire to free up some of their cells.”

“Of course, my Lord,” he cackled in delight, happy that he was able to serve his master and provide for any requests.

 “Good.” He leaned back and took it all in, noting that he would need to see if anything had changed in the years that Barty had been out or that he had been unavailable. He wouldn’t act tonight; no, that would too rash.

‘But soon,’ he hissed to himself, a rare uptick to the side of his mouth. ‘Yes, soon.’

 

The next morning dawned rather early for Harry and Cedric, and both boys had only had a few hours of sleep before they were awoken by the rush of classmates who much preferred to spend their remaining time at Hogwarts outside and enjoying themselves. Many of them were glad to be done with classes, but they also would dearly miss the castle and their friends. It was a little sad to think that they would be leaving in a day.

But first they had to eat breakfast, and even though Harry was tired – he couldn’t help the peaceful grin that settled onto his face because he had just had one of the best nights of his life. His lips still had a faint sensation of being kissed, and it took all of his willpower not to stare longingly at Cedric.

Hermione knew something was different with Harry but she was having trouble putting her finger on it. It was paradoxical that Harry was so calm this morning considering what had befallen him a few nights prior.

“Harry, how are you doing this morning?” she asked amid small bites of her porridge, pointedly trying to hide her curiosity in the hopes of not giving anything away. She had learned that the best approach with Harry had been to catch him off guard.

“Harry,” she called again, even more curious now at finding out what was going on.

“Huh, what was that? Did you say something, Hermione?” Harry replied, ending his daydream about the older Hufflepuff.

“I asked how you were doing today, you seem really out of it.” Her statement had been calculating; she had wanted to appear concerned, which she was, but knowing that Harry didn’t take overt mothering too well – even from her.

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine.” He looked around the table to give him time to think of an adequate response because he noticed that he would have to explain the smile he found on his face. Again, Harry was thankful that thinking was easier for him now.

“I was just thinking of my mum,” he said suddenly, knowing that emotions on his face could be explained by having a once-in-a-lifetime reunion with his deceased parent that finally gave him something other to remember her by than her pleading for her life.

“Oh, Harry,” Hermione said sincerely, not expecting that response, but seeing how it made sense.

Harry felt bad for the small white lie, and while he was and did feel incredibly happy and fortunate to have experienced that – it wasn’t the real reason for his current mood. Though, now that he was thinking about his mum, that now became the reason for his lifted spirits whereas thoughts about Cedric’s kisses fell to the sideline.

Hermione leaned in closer to Harry, Ron failing to notice what was going on until he had demolished the towering plate of food before him.

“I’m here for you, you know that, right? I mean, if you ever wanted to talk about things.” Her warm brown eyes and loving features directed towards Harry, who she considered to be like a brother.

“I know Hermione, thanks. It means a lot.” He reached to the side and squeezed her hand, easily returning her sentiment. She was like a sister to him as well.

“So what now?” Harry asked, finished with his breakfast. He had surreptitiously caught Cedric’s eyes, and had managed to give him a quick smile while Hermione was busy getting Ron to chew his food before asking her a question.

“I don’t know. I suppose we will have to be there to watch the students from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons leave.” Her eyes drifted off to where her new international friend, Victor Krum, sat at the Slytherin Table.

Ron rolled his eyes; he had been coming to terms with what his jealously over Victor had been about, which was also one of the reasons why he was so keen to put a little more interest into his studies.

They sat there until breakfast was over, Ron compromising and giving into Hermione’s incessant need to talk about the exams that were finished and she found herself actually interested in some of Ron’s viewpoints on some of the questions.

Harry was thinking about how the school had almost returned to normal in such a short time; he remembered back to when Sirius was on the loose and all that anyone could talk about was him breaking into the castle. But now, even with Pettigrew’s unexpected return, the students had seem uninterested in knowing exactly what Harry or Cedric had gone through in the maze and were simply happy that a Hogwarts’ student had won.

Indeed, there was little fanfare in the crowning of Harry and Cedric as champions with only a brief mention before everyone departed breakfast and they were quietly given their winnings before the student body exchanged goodbyes with the other schools. It was still fascinating to many how the other school traveled and they watched in awe as the boat sank beneath the surface and the large carriage took flight into the sky and soon rose above the low-lying clouds.

The rest of the day was pretty leisurely for the trio as they strolled about the grounds and talked about their plans for the summer.

“So, Harry,” Ron put forth, “how long are you at The Dursleys again?”

“Dumbledore said two weeks at the longest,” Harry replied, wondering when he was going to share the news with his friends about the information that Dumbledore had. Ultimately, he decided that he would wait until he had something to share.

“And then it’s onto Grimmauld Place?”

“Yeah, Hermione,” knowing that she was with him last year when the offer of a new residence was first made to him. She knew just how important this was for Harry.

“It’ll be nice to have a home,” Harry sighed, looking off across the still water with the only ripples being caused by Ron throwing stones.

“We’ll come visit mate, you know it.”

“I know Ron; maybe this year, everyone can stay the rest of the summer there instead of at The Burrow? I’m sure Sirius will be okay with it.”

“Be a bit harder to play quidditch in the city though,” Ron smartly commented.

It was Hermione’s turn to roll her eyes.

“I’m sure you two will think of something. I can just imagine you boys flying throughout the house and your mother yelling at you, ‘Ronald, you come down form there this instant.’”

Harry snorted. “That was a brilliant impression, Hermione.”

Ron was slightly horrified as her impersonation had been perfect, “it was eerie how similar that was.”

“Well, it’s the truth.”

“I never disagreed with that,” Ron admitted.

“Come on guys,” Harry put his arms around both of them and guided them back to the castle as they needed to pack before dinner.

“Besides, with you guys there we can start planning out our training. You know, Hermione, I hear the library at Grimmauld Place is huge with a lot of rare books.”

Her eyes grew dreamy and Harry had to stifle a laugh because he was looking forward to it as well so he couldn’t really make fun of her reaction.

“Heck, even I am looking forward to that,” Ron announced, again causing Hermione to slightly reevaluate her opinion of him.

“What?” Ron looked at her indignantly, “think of the spells in there that Fred and George don’t know. I’ll finally be able to start getting them back.”

It was Ron’s turn to take on a dreamy expression.

“Well, at least you will be willingly learning Magic,” she chided, as they made their way into the castle.

Packing didn’t take them that long and dinner was a short affair as well. The atmosphere in the Great Hall was full of chatter with the school year officially coming to a close. Before being dismissed, however, Albus rose and parted with a few words in the hopes of preparing his students for the return of Voldemort.

“Another year, gone. One full of new friends and new experiences, and hopefully, you learned something along the way. With every passing year, those friendships grow and your capabilities with magic increase.” He looked out over each table, deliberately increasing the impact that his words would unconsciously have. He had chosen those few words carefully to maximize impact while knowing that their attention span was short.

“And someday, those friendships and that magical knowledge can do wonders – even in the face of the unknown.” Then it was time for his usual phrase, “and get those heads nice and empty before filling them once more next year.”

Soon, everyone was dismissed and the trio returned to their common room and relaxed on one of the couches until it was time for bed. Harry, however, waited up again tonight, for Cedric and him had briefly discussed meeting at midnight one last time before the summer truly began.

Harry wasn’t as nervous this time making the trip to the Astronomy Tower; if anything, he was a little emotional at this being the last time that he would get a chance to be alone with Cedric for who knew how long.

This time, Cedric was there before Harry and they immediately came together, kissing with such intensity at their upcoming separation.

They didn’t sleep at all that night, but they were able to talk and kiss and be close to each other, making some plans for staying in touch over the summer.

“I’ll miss you, Harry,” Cedric breathed while holding Harry, his voice slightly breaking from the intense emotions threatening to overtake him. The thought of two months away was unbearable now that he had this new relationship.

“Me too,” was all Harry managed to say before a single tear managed to fall down his cheek.

“Until next time,” Cedric said before kissing him one last time and very reluctantly letting the younger boy return to Gryffindor as the sun, along with the students for an early breakfast, were beginning to rise.

 

**Let me know what you think! I love reviews :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: First, thank you for still reading! Second, not much to say except I will be taking the fifth year at a rather fast pace because there are many fics that deal with the aftermath of Pettigrew being found and other things that I don’t want to spend time with. My focus is towards the future and how Harry deals with coming out and Cedric and then learning the prophecy and how that affects him. Plus, I want to get to Charlie sooner rather than later seeing as that is the main pairing.

**Standard disclaimer about not owning anything; I am so thankful for JKR and all that she did for us. She gave us one of the greatest gifts, and so many people have taken to this site and played brilliantly with her creation. We should have a JKR day and it should be a global holiday!**

 

Harry was ecstatic at leaving the Dursleys behind. It had taken just under two weeks for everything to fully come together, and there was hardly any interaction between anyone when Sirius had come to collect him. The Dursleys couldn’t wait to be free of him, and the feeling was mutual, but Harry didn’t care about the past now.

Pettigrew had finally had his trial and Sirius had been cleared. In fact, he had even been given a considerable remuneration for the time that he had spent in Azkaban. Even without the aid of what was left of the Black Fortune, Sirius would never have to work another day in his life and would be able to provide for a very nice life for Harry – who hadn’t even made a dent in the money left to him by his parents.

Though, it wasn’t all good news. During the trial, Pettigrew had been asked carefully crafted questions in order to make sure that information about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named’s alleged return remained secret. The Ministry had no intention of releasing that information just yet, and, to be sure, Pettigrew was quietly given the Dementor’s kiss instead of serving life in Azkaban.

Harry was a little nervous about Grimmauld Place after reading about some of the stories that Sirius had written in their letters during his brief and final time in Little Whinging. He was relieved as they walked from their apparation point and through the park when Sirius had told him that the entire house was now clean. Although, Harry was surprised to learn that there would be a house elf, who Sirius wasn’t particularly found of, and that painting of Sirius’ mother had been unable to get removed. Still, Harry thought, anything short of having to live with Voldemort was better than being at Privet Drive.

Harry was given a piece of paper upon exciting the park; Dumbledore had insisted on the Fidelius Charm being used, and he had offered himself to be the Secret Keeper. He was adamant that if Harry was giving up the protection from his mother’s sacrifice, that there would be some kind of assurance of his safety going forward and the Fidelius Charm was the next best thing to ancient protection magic.

Harry was still both a little confused and intrigued that a secret could be hidden inside of someone, and noted the magic that went through him when he read the address and this house that just appeared out of nowhere in front of him.

Thoughts about the magic were soon swept aside as he saw the house for the first time. It was magnificent in Harry’s mind and he couldn’t wait to settle in, and he could definitely feel himself soon being able to call this place home.

They walked through the threshold and even though they were being as quiet as they could, Sirius’ mother, Walburga Black, came to life and started screeching bloody murder.

“Who dares enter the house of the Ancient and Noble Blacks? This is the house of my fathers and I will not allow it!” She roared.

“Forgive me Harry,” Sirius gave him a pained look.

“She still isn’t used to me living here after all of that time spent alone these past few years.”

Harry gave him a look and shrugged his shoulders; there really wasn’t anything that they could do about it. Sirius had warned him about his dear mother and told Harry that he wouldn’t rest until she was removed. For all intents and purposes, Sirius had made it clear to Harry that he was his only family now and to never be concerned with what someone else said.

Fortunately, the painting was in the entrance hallway and so it would remain somewhat out of the way while they were in the rest of the house.

But that did mean that they had to walk right by it.

“Traitor,” she cried at seeing Sirius walk through.

“You don’t deserve to have this house!”

Harry could see the look of pain that briefly flashed through Sirius’ eyes; he didn’t like it at all.

Then, Walburga caught sight of Harry. “And just who is this that thinks they are worthy of being in this house? Are you a blood traitor?”

Harry just rolled his eyes at Walburga, which, granted, wasn’t the best idea and immediately set her off wailing again.

“Don’t treat me with such disrespect. Do you know who I am? I could have you killed!” she cried out, preferring to act as if she did have that kind of power and was alive.

Harry was sick of taking people’s crap. His time since the cemetery had allowed him to do a lot of thinking and reevaluate his life so far. He had been through too much to let what anyone said affect him, and Harry was beginning to develop this new confidence in his abilities born from having access to his full mental faculties that he had gone his entire life without. No more would he be a punching bag.

“I’m sorry – but do you know who I am?” He bit back, arms folded across his chest. Sirius had to turn around, surprised at Harry’s comeback and intrigued at where he was going with this.

“What does it matter? You are beneath us and everything this house stands for.” The painting was surprised at someone talking back to it in that manner and so there was less venom in her retort.

“Well, I am someone that also goes by the name the Boy-Who-Lived.” If Harry could face Voldemort, and hold his own with Albus even if it had been just a single time, then he certainly should be able to handle some painting who had only the footprint of who the person had been when they had been alive.

“I got that title because Voldemort, yeah I can say that name, killed my parents and then came after me. He cast the killing curse at me, a baby, but I survived. Since then, I have battled trolls, Voldemort’s spirit, Acromantulas, killed a Basilisk and Voldemort - again, driven away about a hundred Dementors, encountered a werewolf, terrorists, faced off with a nesting dragon, escaped a deadly maze only to find myself face to face with another episode of surviving a killing curse, to knowing that Voldemort has returned and has a body once more. So tell me, why should I care what you say? You have a great son here, who battled a mad man intent on killing everyone it seems. Plus he escaped from a prison, where he was being held illegally, once thought to be inescapable to find me and protect me, his Godson.”

Sirius had to admit, it was an impressive sight seeing Harry stare down the memory of his dear mum, and was a rant more than worthy of being a marauder. It also made Sirius’ heart ache, because although he was incredible proud that Harry had faced and beaten all of those thing – Harry was still just a kid and should never have had to face any of those things even once. His Godson meant so much to him and he swore to James and Lilly that he would do his best to make sure that their son lived through what was to come and he would make sure that Harry’s life was as enjoyable as possible.

Walburga didn’t know what to say. Her first thought that the kid was lying, but she couldn’t find it in his eyes. It was remarkable for anyone to face all of that, and survive - in their entire lifetime – and here this boy in front of her was just that, a boy. As much as she didn’t want to because it went against how she had been used to acting, she had to respect someone that faced all of that and lived.

She nodded at Harry and became silent, too deep in thought evaluating her small world to continue her acidic barbs.

Harry walked towards Sirius, who had a gobsmacked expression on his face and together they headed into the kitchen.

Sirius was floored, “Harry, I don’t think I have ever seen anyone make my mother speechless before. Where did that come from?”

It was a fair question. Before the cemetery, Harry would never have had the confidence or the mental abilities to remain cool, calm, and collected during such a tirade. In the past, he would have felt this daze of anger spread through him and cloud his judgment and cause him to rush into something. Now though, he could certainly see how he had changed and what that afforded him. Again, he appreciated it knowing that Voldemort was out there now, seemingly having his eyes set on him – and Harry would be prepared for the next time something happened to him.

“I guess you can say I have changed since the cemetery. I feel older I guess and thinking is easier for me.” He didn’t want to worry Sirius about his thoughts with the scar and figured it would become clear when Albus told him what he wanted to know. Which reminded him that he needed to come up with a schedule to learn Occlumency.

Sirius thought he was describing growing up and sometimes it feeling like progress was in spurts rather than at a slow, steady rate.

They ate some lunch and Harry was taken on a tour of his new home. Sirius had introduced him to Kreacher, who had observed the incident with Walburga and was also deep in thought. He knew when someone had won her respect, and it gave him pause. He had usually taken up things and ideas that she respected, and even though he loathed Sirius because of the pain he had put his parents through and how the man treated him, he didn’t know how to feel about someone that had just become his new master.

Harry settled into his room and started putting away the small number of possessions that he owned. He had decided back at The Dursleys to go through all of his textbooks because he was going to treat school very differently than he had in the past and wanted to make sure he had a firm grasp of the basics before committing fully to his plan. It had become painfully obvious to him just how abnormal his life was and how much luck had been involved with him surviving up to this point. Harry didn’t want to take any more chances and he wanted to be as prepared for the future as he could. So, he set to work and continued going through his old books. The good thing about his time at Privet Drive had been all the time that he had had and he was able to nearly finish two years of review in two weeks.

Studying had also given him something to focus on besides Cedric. He had spent his first few days moping around his room at the lack of contact and wondering if it had even happened at all. It was also easier to not focus on the sudden intensity of these feelings and question as to why that was.

They had been writing to each other non-stop and some days even exchanged two or three letters, which meant that Hedwig actually had the best summer that she had ever had mainly because she never inside her cage.

At first the letters had been desperate, as each were going through an acute withdrawal of kisses and the close contact that they had quickly become accustomed to – but as time went on, the tone of the letters changed. They became calmer, more accepting that there would be a considerable amount of time between their next encounter. Both were sharing things and learning about what the other had gone through in life and becoming closer in more intimate ways that had nothing to do with anything physical.

Harry and Cedric had settled into a routine: they would wake up, and read the letters that had been delivered overnight before responding and then going through their day before reading and responding to the letters from the morning at night.

The distance also gave Harry a chance to focus on what was happening in his life outside of Cedric. He realized that there were likely things that he didn’t know about Voldemort and what was going on with his scar, while at the same time, beginning to let someone into his inner circle, potentially sharing things that he had only ever experienced with Ron or Hermione before.

But the one thought about a relationship that he couldn’t try to ignore concerned both his and the other person’s safety. He had some doubts in the very back of his mind that any relationship he entered into would be challenging given who he was and what was constantly happening in his life, but so far Cedric didn’t seem to mind that despite not knowing everything that Harry had been through. Some of what Harry wanted to tell him was better left for in person and if and when their relationship progressed.

Although just thinking about the future, now that he was almost hyper aware of what _had_ been going on and what _was_ going one, sometimes gave Harry an uneasy feeling. And that wasn’t even considering how he was going to handle coming out. Even though homosexuality wasn’t as frowned upon in the wizarding world, it was just something else that he would have to go through and he wondered how that would impact his relationship with Cedric. How he wished that his life were easier and that there were fewer things that he had to worry about; it would have made things so much easier.

But Harry had had a sheltered life before Hogwarts, and then at Hogwarts had basically only ever gotten the chance to react to things as they happened. He had learned to just go with things and to not really think about them until later, if he ever thought about them at all. He may not have liked the routine, but it was the only thing that he knew.

Still, what was happening with Cedric was sudden; he couldn’t deny that. But it made him feel so good inside that he latched onto what was happening. Every letter that he would get was saved and then reread again and again when his studying for the day was finished.

And Harry found himself enjoying getting to know who Cedric was and he couldn’t wait until he could see him again. Which now that he was living in Grimmauld Place, he would have to see about Sirius letting him have friends over, though that would involve having Dumbledore in on it as the Secret Keeper as Sirius had destroyed the initial address that he had given to Harry to read and enter his new home.

At dinner that night, Harry gave it a go.

“Sirius,” he called between bites of his shepherd’s pie that Kreacher had made, which were divine by the way.

“Yeah, pup?” he looked up at Harry after pouring himself a small glass of whiskey.

“I was wondering about having friends over. Normally, I go over to the Burrow at the end of the summer and this year, well, I was thinking if Ron, Hermione, and possibly Cedric could come here?”

At the very least, Harry wanted to be able to go and see his friends if he wasn’t able to have them over.

Sirius smiled at him. “Actually, I had already spoken with Dumbledore, thinking it would be a good idea for you to be able to feel that this was your home, which it is, by having people over. Obviously, it will be a little more challenging because of the Fidelius, but I don’t see why not.”

“Though, Cedric, huh?” Sirius raised his eyebrow. “I didn’t know you were good friends with him, or was it because of what happened in the cemetery?” He asked concernedly, knowing that traumatic events often brought people together.

Sirius took another bite of his potatoes but kept his eyes on Harry who sat right across from him.

Harry tried to keep the color out of his cheeks, but some crept through, making his face feel a little warmer than usual. Sirius noticed it.

“We became _friends_ ,” Harry accented accidentally, “at the end of the year.” Harry realized his unexpected giveaway, suddenly not feeling that hungry and wary of Sirius’ response.

Sirius raised his eyebrows in slight shock, but not because he had a problem with it. To him, it was just one more thing that Harry would have to endure, along with everything else on his plate.

“ _Friends_ , huh?” Sirius wanted to make this as easy on Harry as possible, but couldn’t resist all of his marauder tendencies.

“I’ll make this simple, Harry – never worry about telling me anything. I just want you to be happy, okay? And your parents wouldn’t care either who you ended up with.”

Relief flushed through Harry and he released a breath that he didn’t know that he was holding.

“Really, Sirius? You are okay with it? It kind of surprised me how quick it suddenly all came together. It was like one minute I didn’t really notice how attracted I was to anyone, and then all of a sudden, wham, I saw him and …” He trailed off, the nodding of Sirius’ head indicating that he had more than gotten the point that he thought Harry was trying to make.

“I think that is how it goes for most people when they get their first crush or whatever is going on between you two; one minute can change everything at your age.”

Sirius smiled warmly at him, finding himself enjoying the parental aspect of this much more than he ever would have thought. Perhaps he knew how Harry felt with feelings all of a sudden becoming apparent that you hadn’t really thought about before. He knew he was overjoyed at having Harry as his Godson, but now though, he would die for him without question and the most important thing to him was that the young man that sat across from him was happy.

Harry returned the smile, but he still wasn’t hungry anymore. Though, this time, the reason had nothing to do with any negative emotions.

“So, do you have any questions about _that_ or is it too soon do you think?” a wicked glint in Sirius’ eye because he could see the sudden awkwardness that took over Harry’s countenance.

Harry’s face nearly blanched; he was not ready for _this_ talk just yet, if ever.

“No, no, no. That is quite alright.” Harry responded with cherry-colored cheeks. Though, internally, his mind did begin to wonder about that sort of thing and what was involved and what would happen, and he began to sweat slightly. He felt his pants becoming a little tighter because of the excitement that train of thought had led him towards, but he was also aware that Sirius was present and that was very uncomfortable for him.

Luckily, dinner was over soon and Harry was able to excuse himself and turned in for the night.

‘Sex,’ he thought to himself, suddenly aware that being in a relationship could lead to sex and honestly wondering what he thought of the subject.

‘It’s much too soon,’ he told himself, ‘I just had my first kiss two weeks ago!’

He rolled over onto his back on the largest bed that he had ever gotten to call his.

But he began to wonder what Cedric thought about that, which was something he reasoned could be on the mind of the other boy considering that he was two years older than he was.

Needless to say, Harry had some interesting dreams that night and was awoken in the middle of the night after having another first.

 

* * *

He moved silently through the dark night, seemingly walking on air as he maneuvered around the heavily guarded fortress known as Azkaban. Ever since Sirius Black had escaped, the prison’s defenses had improved considerably. But it was no matter to him; the Dementor’s did not bother him.

Dementors fed on the joy that was in someone’s soul, and that was what they craved to the point they allowed the Ministry to subjugate them in return for a never-ending buffet of prisoners, most of whom where committed for life. It was a relatively easy life for them, despite not having their preferred source of nutrients. Adults had older souls and even though there could be joy, it wasn’t the same as the unbridled and pure joy that a child could possess. It was also why it had been so difficult to control the Dementors at Hogwarts, and had the Minister known better, well, it was the Ministry and they probably wouldn’t have done anything differently.

But his soul was different; Lord Voldemort had split it so many times that it was not recognizable to a Dementor and their presence barely affected him and they didn’t even see him as a source of food.

And so Lord Voldemort, the greatest Dark Wizard of all time, suddenly appeared at the very top of the tower and made his way into the fortress to enact the first phase of his plan.

 

* * *

The next morning Harry made it downstairs before Sirius, finding that he was unable to go back to sleep after that surge of hormones that had run through him. Now, it wasn’t because it was the first time that he had had a wet dream, but this was the first time that he had known who the other person was. In the past, it has always been some nameless face – and now that Harry thought about it, he wasn’t too sure what the gender had even been – but now it had been Cedric, his kissing person and it was slightly shocking.

Unfortunately, he would find that his day would get a lot worse because a few moments after Sirius had come down for break, the Daily Prophet had been delivered.

 

**Azkaban Prisoner Missing**

By Rita Skeeter.

_My Dear Readers,_

_I wish I had better news. Earlier today, guards noticed that a prisoner was missing at Azkaban. The Ministry does not know for certain everything surrounding this incident and whether the prisoner escaped, but the Ministry is asking the wizarding community to be vigilant for any sightings of Bellatrix Lestrange (nee Black). This is the second event in less than two years to involve a missing prisoner at the fabled prison, once thought inescapable. Readers will remember the Sirius Black fiasco, who we learned recently was innocent and had simply been desperate to protect his Godson. Unfortunately, this will not have the same ending because Bellatrix was sentenced lawfully for her admitted role in the torture of Frank and Alice Longbottom in order to extract information on the whereabouts of the recently defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Let us hope that this is not the case, but again, readers are cautioned to treat her as heavily armed and exceedingly dangerous._

**Let me know what you think! Reviews are great!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: First, thank you for still reading! Second, not really much to say except this is the calm before the storm. Also, reviews are encouraged and appreciated (really, they mean the world to me).

Harry was nervous. It was just a few days before his birthday and he was heading to Diagon Alley to get his school supplies so that he could start going over the material for the upcoming year. And while he was there he would also add a few books on Occlumency as well considering that Sirius had all ready begun his training. So far they had focused on getting Harry to clear his mind; it was counterintuitive to most people that before continuing on and organizing one’s mind, you had to get used to having your mind absolutely quiet.

But getting all of his stuff wasn’t what made him nervous. Now that he was actually applying himself and understanding the material he found that he loved learning the many different types of magic and couldn’t wait to get new material. The practical application came easy to him and the wards inside Grimmauld Place allowed him to practice as much as he wished, but the thing that he found had most changed since the cemetery was his newfound appreciation of magical theory. He had always struggled with the basic underpinnings highlighting the many branches of magic with each being specific in their own ways of how the magic actually worked. It used to be difficult for him to be able to grasp that conceptual framework, but he found that it made sense to him now and greatly increased his interest to the point where he thought Hermione might have some competition at being first in the class.

No, Harry was on-edge and tense in anticipation that Cedric would be meeting them in Diagon Alley. It was the first time that they were seeing each other since Hogwarts, which was hard to believe was a month ago. He had spent far too much of that time in between obsessing over the littlest things because he was so new to these feelings and making sense of them.

They still wrote each other very frequently, perhaps not twice a day as in the beginning, but the tone and content of their letters did not change. Indeed, they were still learning about past experiences that the other one had had or what their thoughts were on a particular topic and continued developing a close relationship where they started trusting more and more and withholding less and less information. Harry was beginning to imagine that someday he would have to fill Cedric in on what he was doing with Occlumency, which Sirius had advised him to keep under wraps for the time being, to ultimately learn the information that Dumbledore had. But they weren’t at that point yet.

He had spent the four previous years getting this close to only Ron and Hermione, and it felt refreshing for him to hear a new point of view or having someone else to lean on and also be a support for them.

But there were some negative thoughts that countered all of his positive ones.

Harry couldn’t help the thoughts that would enter his mind, asking him what he would do if that spark weren’t there anymore when they reunited. The thought of it being different between them caused his chest to tighten; he didn’t want to lose something that he had known so briefly but had brought him so much joy and excitement. Even though Harry had raised this concern in one of their last letters, and even though Cedric had reassured him that he was even more enamored, he just couldn’t shake this feeling in the back of his mind. It was one of his greatest fears that this would be taken away, like so much else had in his life. A part of him was even preparing for it.

He supposed that it was normal and had awkwardly spoken to Sirius about the matter, who had more or less told him that the beginning of all relationships were like this. Sirius had even suggested having Cedric come over to Grimmauld Place after their trip so that they could spend some time alone. Sirius wasn’t too worried about anything unbecoming happening between them – and he thought that the interaction and chance to hang out with no one else around would be good for Harry and Cedric to get a solid foundation. What Sirius didn’t want to happen was for them going to extreme lengths at Hogwarts to get some privacy and perhaps progressing the relationship too far too quickly. He would much rather have their interactions be under some auspice of adult supervision, never mind that Cedric was technical an adult because it didn’t count in this situation.

And so, Harry came down the stairs that morning, readjusting his shirt because his hair had refused to remain set in the direction he had placed it in and it was something to occupy the nervous flutters that had prevented him from eating more than a few bits of food.

“All set, pup?” Sirius didn’t have it in him to make Harry feel any worse about the situation by making some snarky comment; he could practically feel the nervousness rolling off of the boy.

“I guess,” Harry replied, fidgeting incessantly.

“Harry,” Sirius reassured him. “I know you are nervous and that it is perfectly natural to be so, but you guys do write every day. From everything you tell me, I don’t think Cedric is the type of person to suddenly lose interest in something. And he’s Hufflepuff, right?”

Harry nodded.

“Well, aren’t they supposed to be honest and loyal?”

Sirius was just trying to get Harry’s improved logical way of thinking to kick in.

“I know, Sirius. These are all things that I have told myself, but I don’t think anything will work until I just see him again. It was hard going through the end of the tournament, with all that happened there and all that started between us, and then go our separate ways for a few weeks.”

“Well, let’s get this over with then,” Sirius offered his hand, intent on just apparating the two of them there instead of the floo.

They popped over to an apparition point just besides The Leaky Cauldron, and then entered through the magical archway and headed to Gringotts to meet Cedric and get some of the galleons out of Harry’s vault. It had been agreed to meet earlier in the morning as there were usually fewer people around and people were still getting used to seeing Sirius without immediately thinking to run to the Ministry and inform them of his whereabouts. Also, with the increased notoriety from winning the tournament, in a tie no less, it worked in their favor to try and stay out of the public’s view as much as possible.

Cedric was standing on the marble steps, his back resting against one of the off-white stone columns that supported the huge bank. His arms were tan and streaks of a rich, golden color were visible in his noticeably lighter brown hair.

‘Cedric must have been spending a lot of time outdoors,’ Harry thought as he looked over his seemingly Greek Adonis. His heart skipped a beat and a huge smile appeared on his face as Cedric spotted him and flashed him his dazzling smile.

“Harry,” he said excitedly, skipping down the steps to meet them

There was hardly anyone around to worry about, but the boys still just shook hands, perhaps a slight delay in releasing each other’s hand. Cedric hadn’t taken his eyes off of Harry yet and was searching his face hungrily, hardly believing that he had gone this long with seeing the object of his affection.

But Cedric was also aware that Harry’s guardian was present and so he turned to introduce himself to Sirius.

“Hello, Sirius, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Cedric Diggory,” he shook his hand firmly and quickly released it.

“Pleasure to meet you, Cedric. I thought your parents were coming today?” Sirius peered behind Cedric and looked for Amos Diggory, who he knew from his brief stint as an Auror.

Cedric moved to stand next to Harry while answering. “Well, since I am of age and my parents are working, I told them that I would be fine doing this by myself.”

“Ah, I see,” Sirius said, aware of the age difference between Cedric and his Godson, but trusting Harry to make his own choices and Cedric for being respectful. At least, he was going to give them some space as long as neither gave him a reason to do otherwise. It would also have been hypocritical for him considering some of the choices that he had made in his own youth.

“Shall we?” Sirius directed and led them up the steps and into the bank. Harry and Cedric trailed behind and they smiled dumbly at each other, both relieved that the wait was finally over. They quickly followed Sirius path, removed some money from their accounts, and headed out to get their purchases over with.

 

* * *

Lord Voldemort was never one to sit around leisurely and read the morning paper; however, given that Dumbledore was aware of his return and that likely the Minister knew as well, he was keeping his ear to the ground. He was a little surprised that news of his return hadn’t been made publically yet, but one could read between the lines if you paid close attention to things that were happening in the Ministry.

Small reports were being made about a larger class of recruits being hired for Auror training than the year before or how they had started newer security measures at the Ministry. Any one of these things taken by itself wouldn’t mean anything, except when taken together it signaled that they were moving against him and were going to make it harder for him to infiltrate as he had last time.

‘Harder, but not impossible,’ he thought.

It was one of the reasons why he had freed Bellatrix, and only her, because they would have been hard pressed to find a plausible excuse for all of his followers escaping. This way, they could chalk up her escape – to the public – as being reminiscent of what Sirius had done only two years prior, seeing as they were both Blacks. They would likely know that he had done it, but the public wouldn’t and that was the important thing at the moment.

In the future, he would be free to break all of them out, while at the same time providing them another person to blame. ‘Bellatrix Leads Mass Breakout,’ was a better headline than ‘Dark Lord Returns: Run for Your Lives.’ The Ministry wanted the public to think that they were on top of things and that no problem existed, and he knew the lengths that they would go to so that the public had confidence in them. So, the Dark Lord had simply played along, and would play along, until the time was right for a swift takeover once he had everything in place. 

Besides, he was in no rush to act. It had taken him years to regain a body and he never wanted to be in that position of helplessness again. He had waited a long time and he could be patient a little longer if it increased his likelihood of success.

But in the meantime, he did have work to do.

“Bella! Barty!” he shouted, pleased at their quick response. He liked it when they dropped everything and answered him, running as quickly as they could through the manor, which he had acquired for them all, to stand before him, and ready to answer to his every whim.   

“I have work for you to do. See that it is taken care of,” he dismissed them with a small envelope with his explicit instructions.

“My Lord,” they intoned, bowing low in his presence and quickly departing to fulfill their Master’s wishes. They didn’t question why he was interested in this particular Ministry worker or why their Lord wished for information on The Department of Mysteries; they simply followed their orders.

 

* * *

The trip to Diagon Alley had been a rousing success. Not only had they purchased their supplies for the upcoming year, with a few dozen more tomes thrown in at Harry’s urging, but they had also shaken off their nervous jitters and were fully relaxed for the first time in weeks. Harry and Cedric were walking through the park shoulder-to-shoulder, their fingertips just casually brushing against each other’s, and following Sirius towards the entrance to Grimmauld Place.

He stopped and turned to Cedric, holding out the written address and telling him to memorize it.

Cedric was fascinated with charms and couldn’t believe that he was in on the secret that was protected by a Fidelius. Although, it did make him slightly curious at why it was cast in the first place. It wasn’t everyday that someone took it to that extent to protect something, but he supposed, in Harry’s case it made sense. He was living with someone who was pretty infamous in his own right, and reasoned them wanting their privacy was reason enough for that complex and complicated charm to be cast.

Once they were inside, Cedric placed his belongings near the door and besides the picture of an old, but once-beautiful woman. Her eyes followed him intently as all three of them walked in. She had changed much in the past weeks as she got used to people living in her home once more and had cut back on the amount of screaming. Things had even progressed to the point where basic pleasantries were exchanged as she observed more and more that Sirius was doing everything right to raise his Godson. It had helped that Walburga was also related to Harry through his Grandmother, Dorea, and that he had fame, wealth, and power in spades. He had all of the qualities that she used to espouse, but more importantly, Harry was her only hope at keeping The Black Line alive.

“Walburga,” Harry nodded his head in a polite greeting.

“Harry,” Walburga returned, giving a calculating glance at both Cedric and Sirius but not making any further comments.

“This way,” Harry beckoned, leading Cedric into the parlor and then the library while Sirius went to inquire about lunch. They had spent a few hours in Diagon Alley and it had been even longer since they had eaten breakfast, and all of them were very hungry.

But thoughts of food were forgotten as soon as Harry and Cedric were finally alone, not even waiting to get fully into the room before wrapping their arms around each other and kissing the other one as if their life depended on it. Any thought about time or how nervous they had been with waiting so long was forgotten as they got lost in the moment of the other’s long-awaited company. The kisses were rushed and frenzied before they settled into a gentler, more passionate rhythm. For the first time, tongues were added, and created more sensations and tingles than Harry could ever hope to describe.

“Hem Hem,” Sirius interrupted, feeling better about walking in on this than he had ever expected he would be. He had had to remind himself that Harry would turn fifteen soon, and this was natural for his age group. It helped that he had walked in on what he thought to be a very tender moment that he felt appropriate for Harry’s age, even if he didn’t like how fast Harry was growing up.

However, both Harry and Cedric were mortified and they fully expected to be yelled at for their lack of discretion or even something worse. Sirius simply informed them that lunch would be ready soon and to wash up. Harry was the first to use the sink in the bathroom and left Cedric and Sirius with a lot of red on his face.

Sirius’ eyes followed Harry out of the room, and then he turned all of his attention onto Cedric. He didn’t have much time, but he wanted to get his point across.

“I don’t have to give you the talk, do I?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.

“No, sir,” Cedric’s red face becoming whiter as it hit him fully that he was alone with Sirius Black, Harry’s Godfather, and the only man that had escaped from Azkaban, who had just walked in on him making out with his Godson.

“Good,” Sirius eyed him seriously.

            “Because my only concern is Harry and his happiness and well-being. Just remember that.”

Cedric nodded, “of course, I don’t ever want to hurt him.” Cedric did care a lot for Harry.

Sirius nodded just as Harry walked into the room, Sirius greeting him and informing Cedric where the washroom and the kitchen was before leading Harry to where lunch was being served.

Cedric joined them a few minutes later, taking a few minutes to splash some cold water on his face.

He sat down next to Harry who was smiling sheepishly at him, attempting to make up for starting off on the wrong foot so to speak with that public display of affection. He waved it off and briefly put his hand over Harry’s on the table before picking up his utensils and digging in.

“Cedric?” Sirius called.

“How are you doing with everything after the end of the year? I have to say that I am surprised that you were out by yourself – rather, I’m surprised that your parents were okay with it. I know Amos is a very conservative individual in some regards.”

Harry looked to Cedric, himself curious at what the answer would be, but thinking that he already knew the answer given that they had had a lot of time to get to know how the other person thought.

Cedric placed his silverware down and responded.

“At first, it was difficult even being alone in the house. I would charm a little blue ball to get through the night.” He wasn’t ashamed at admitting his need for a nightlight. Harry understood completely what he was talking about. Those things just took time to get used to.

“After a while, it gradually went away, and when things felt like there were back to normal – I don’t know, I guess other things came easier. I realized that after going through that, and surviving, I could handle a lot. My parents were supportive and have always given respect and space to my decisions and we have talked about what happened. They are comfortable with my choices because of the ones I have made in the past, and they realize that I am of age now. Also, I thought this morning would be a good trial run, so to speak. It was early in the morning and it was a public space and then there was the fact that I was meeting you guys there, and no offense, Sirius, but people are still scared of you.”

“Of me?” he responded with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

They all laughed at that, and settled into a casual conversation about the summer quidditch leagues, debating how the World Cup had changed certain teams for the better.

When lunch was finished, Harry and Cedric went up to his room, with Sirius giving Cedric a reminding look regarding their recent conversation. However, Sirius had very little doubt that Cedric would act like a gentleman, and he knew that Harry could take care of himself.

“Finally,” harry sighed as he closed the door and wrapped his arms around Cedric. “I thought that we would never be alone.” Cedric chuckled and bent his head down and picked up where they had left off in the library.

They didn’t spend the entire afternoon kissing. In fact, a good portion of the afternoon was spent just lying together on the bed and talking about the upcoming year and what they were going to do about their relationship. Harry knew that he would have to tell Hermione and Ron at some point; he just didn’t know how or when that would be.

Cedric knew that some people would be surprised with him dating Harry because he had never shown any inclination to the same sex before. However, when Cedric thought about his life deep down, he realized that he was attracted more to who someone was on the inside and then the physical attraction came. At any rate, it explained why he had never hit it off before with Cho and her now obvious vapid nature.

It also allowed him to see how he had fallen for Harry, though it seemingly came out of nowhere. They had crossed paths a few times for quidditch, but had really started interacting during the tournament and Cedric was able to see how brave Harry was for competing despite not entering and the integrity he had shown by sharing the secret that the first task was dragons. Over the course of the year, he had noticed all of these little things that culminated with the events of the end of the year to make him realize just how much he valued the person that Harry was.

Ultimately, it was decided that they would keep this to themselves for now and just see where things went. They both liked how it wouldn’t add any pressure and they could just enjoy each other’s company.

 

* * *

Dolores Umbridge was pissed off. She had spent so much time working on the Triwizard Tournament and it was going to be her crowning achievement in the Department of International Magical Cooperation. It was supposed to be her ticket to a higher office, the one she had set her sights on as soon she started working at the Ministry: Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. That job had power, prestige and she would finally be able to put it to all those who had been mean to her in her youth. She in no way resembled a toad.

And she _had_ gotten her desired role, but not with the pomp and circumstance that she desired to go along with it. How could _that_ have happened with how the tournament had ended? How could there be a grand celebration in her honor for the conclusion of such a successful and well-executed plan now that everything was hush-hush with preparations for You-Know-Who’s alleged return. She didn’t believe _that_ at all. To her, this was clearly someone with an overactive imagination, a little boy who wanted to claim more of the fame that he had gotten used to and had gone and caused the Ministry, her Ministry, so much work preparing for something that couldn’t possibly exist.

She would do something about that little liar, and she would do it soon.

 

**Let me know what you think! Reviews are great. I just had to bring Umbitch back; I love to hate on her.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: First, thank you for still reading! Second, please don’t be mad with me! I cried writing it; however, for the story that I want to tell – this is a necessary evil and there is a point to it. A very big point! Also, nothing should be considered final until this story is marked complete. If you want a Harry/Cedric fic, read Soul Magic. 
> 
> Also, do not fear: Umbitch will get hers in a most delicious way.

**Standard disclaimer about not owning anything; I am so thankful for JKR and all that she did for us. She gave us one of the greatest gifts, and so many people have taken to this site and played brilliantly with her creation. We should have a JKR day and it should be a global holiday!**

 

Remus was watching the scene before him with great interest; for it truly was a wondrous thing to witness how being a parent changed someone. He had fully expected Sirius to try and spoil the kid rotten or treat him like a younger version of James; but here he was, patiently and expertly explaining the theory behind organizing the mind to Harry, who was quickly absorbing and processing the information.

‘With Sirius teaching this level of magic so effectively, Harry could have learned the Patronus Charm in a single session.’ He shook his head at the thought and continued observing the session.

“Now, Harry, remember what we discussed. I am going to give you some time to put your thoughts together, and I want you to focus on how my presence inside your mind makes you feel. Don’t worry about images or memories that I may see; I won’t be looking for them. This exercise is getting you used to a foreign presence so that you can learn the types of defenses that best work for your mind as you learn how to keep someone out. In the future, we can move onto surprise attacks when you already have something in working order. The best Occlumens are able to throw off an attack without the Legilimens knowing that the person suspects, and for that to happen, you need to really learn how your mind works. Ergo, the basics.”

Sirius paced around Harry as he said this since Harry hadn’t been quite comfortable learning how to clear his mind and then organized it while sitting down. He found that it was easier for him if he was on his feet and moving around. Sirius didn’t care what position he was in as long as he learned it.

“You know, that makes so much more sense when described that way than in the books,” Harry replied.

“Sometimes, I feel like the beginner texts describe things expecting you to already know what they are talking about.”

Both adults shook their heads, more or less agreeing with how ineffective magical education could be since the majority of teaching books were never updated to reflect current or improved understanding.

Harry centered himself, finding it easier to slip into his mindscape the more that he practiced. He preferred to think of it as the night sky: a deep, dark color with wondrous lights that meant he was free and nowhere near Privet Drive anymore. The stars represented his memories, each bright point denoting one unique experience that he had had. Some were brighter or a specific color based on the importance or topic of what it contained, and he used his own constellations to group like thoughts together. All he had to do to access an individual memory was reach out and touch that specific star with his finger, but the intriguing thing that he had just started to play with was organizing the order of the stars within each constellation to know what they were without having to pick one at random. It was hard work and took time, but he was confident that he could finish in a few months.

After a little while inside his mind, he began to notice a foreign presence. It wasn’t an overt feeling; it was subtle and when he looked up at the night’s sky of his memories, a dark shape that passed before them obscured some of the stars. He reached out to grab it and push it out of the way because it was ruining his view when he realized it was Sirius trying to infiltrate his mind. That sudden awareness gave him pause and made him think.

‘What am I supposed to do now?’ he wondered. Not having discussed what would happen when they got to this point, Harry improvised and did the only thing he could think of. Only, instead of using his wand to produce light, he used a flashlight to bath the dark cloud in a bright light, bringing its motion to a halt and causing it to recede from his mindscape. Sirius’ retreat from Harry’s mind caused him to loose focus and he soon followed.

It was a bit disconcerting returning from one’s own mind. There was a strong feeling of disorientation as if you had just woken up from a dream, but in Harry’s case, he was standing and Sirius and Remus were talking to him.

“That was interesting, pup.” Sirius called, slightly surprised with Harry’s use of a muggle devise.

“Certainly will throw someone for a loop who has never left the wizarding world.”

“That was my thought,” Harry replied while rubbing his temples slightly. All of his increased focus lately tended to ware him out as he got used to thinking more and at a much faster rate.

“I didn’t even notice you enter,” Harry stated, picking up a glass of pumpkin juice and taking a deep draft.

“That can happen in the beginning. Along with losing track of time in there,” Sirius added. “The more that you become used to it, the easier it is to transition back and forth until you get to the point where accessing your mindscape can almost be done subconsciously.”

Sirius then sipped his own butterbeer, preferring not to indulge in a more potent brew until they were finished.

“You are making tremendous progress though. I like how you are organizing everything, I assume the stars are your memories?” He asked, wiping a faint trace of sweat from his brow.

Harry nodded. It was encouraging for him to move at a quick pace and continuing his recent trend.

“A few more months and I really think you will be able to keep anyone out, and if by some chance they do manage to get in, I doubt they will find anything. Good work, pup,” Sirius smiled at him.

“Thanks, Sirius,” Harry called out after finishing his drink.

“Now, why don’t you head to bed? Tomorrow is a big day with your birthday and all and we will be heading over to The Weasleys just before lunch.”

Harry was excited and looked forward to his first birthday with his friends. He didn’t care about the party that they were having; he really just looked forward to spending a fun day playing quidditch and taking a break from his studies. Ron had told him that Bill and Charlie would be there, and with Cedric coming too – which was a whole other reason of something to look forward to – there would be enough for a decent number of players when you added in Fred and George, Ginny, and possibly even Sirius or Remus.

Harry said goodnight to Sirius and Uncle Remus who was visiting them now but would be moving into Grimmauld Place when Harry returned for his fifth year to keep Sirius company in the big house.

When Harry was gone, Remus turned to Sirius who was pouring both of them a generous portion of brandy.

“I don’t think I have ever seen him so Happy, Sirius. I wish James and Lilly could see this.” He replied, accepting the drink and taking a small sip.

“I know, it seems things are finally getting better for him. You know, I don’t want to give away his secrets, but I think a lot of it has to do with a new relationship. And since you will find out tomorrow, well...”

“Oh,” Remus raised an eyebrow and took a seat next to his old friend.

“I was waiting for when Hermione and him would get together.”

Sirius chuckled and shook his head.

“No,” he said, a huge grin plastered on his face, curious to see if Remus would get it.

“Hmm. Ron?” he ventured hesitantly?

“Ha Ha!” Sirius nearly spit out his drink.

“Will they be there tomorrow?” Remus asked, intent on figuring this out.

Sirius nodded, knowing Remus was quickly narrowing down his choices.

“Cedric?” he said triumphantly, thinking that he was the only new person among Harry’s friends.

Sirius nodded.

“Are they now…” Remus said more to himself than to Sirius. A content look was in his eyes.

“Well, I hope he makes him happy. To Harry,” Remus toasted.

“To Harry,” Sirius concurred.

 

* * *

The next morning didn’t come quickly enough in Harry’s opinion and he quickly got dressed and ready for the day. He bounded down the stairs and entered the kitchen, looking forward to having friends and family to share the day with. He stopped dead in his tracks as he saw Cedric there.

“Cedric!” he squeaked, still not finding it in him to move towards the older boy who was seated at the table with Remus and Sirius.

Sirius turned to him.

“This is your first birthday present, Harry. I thought you two could have the morning until we went over to The Weasleys together.”

Cedric got up and went over to hug him, giving him only a chaste kiss on the cheek because of the present company but not letting go of his hand as he led Harry back to the table. Kreacher had prepared all of his favorites and they soon dug in.

During the meal, full of lighthearted and good-natured conversation, Remus couldn’t help but agree with Cedric as being part of the cause of Harry’s sheer and overwhelming joy. It nearly caused him to be overcome with emotion knowing some of the trials and tribulations that Harry had been through. There was such ease between the two and Remus thought they had a very good foundation for the future.

After breakfast, Remus and Sirius each gave Harry a present. Remus had prepared a book on defense for him that he had gone through and written down his own suggestions with. He told Harry that it would be a companion piece to what he would be taught in his O.W.L. year.

Harry had thought it was the perfect gift for him and liked that it hadn’t cost Remus too much.

Sirius had given Harry a copy of his will, which made Harry very uncomfortable until Sirius had pointed out the reason.

“Look there, Harry, the first line.”

Harry was stunned.

“You made me your heir, your legal heir… of The Blacks?” Harry didn’t know what to say: it was the closest he would ever get to having a dad.

“I love you like you are my own, Harry. I’m not trying to replace James or Lily, but I just wanted you to know what you mean to me. I figured it would be better here than at the Burrow, you know?” He said, trying hard not wipe at his eyes which had suddenly gotten a little misty.

“It’s perfect,” Harry hugged him fiercely. “Thank you.”

Cedric and Remus gave them a little privacy and entered in a side discussion on what Cedric’s plans were for his winnings of the Triwizard Tournament.

Soon, Harry and Sirius returned to the main conversation before telling Harry that he and Remus needed to make some last minute work before they headed over.

“Why don’t you and Cedric go into the library?” He suggested.

Once they had left the kitchen, Remus turned to Sirius.

“What do we have to do?”

“Nothing, I just figured they should have some alone time before the rest of the day. I don’t think they plan on taking this public anytime soon.”

Remus just stared at Sirius like it was a completely different person.

“When did you get so sensitive to other people’s needs?” He asked.

Sirius shook his head and a warm smile slowly appeared on his face.

“When I started putting someone else’s needs before mine,” He replied.

Remus just patted him on the shoulder and went to retrieve another round of tea for the two as they caught up on other events.

 

* * *

Harry led Cedric over to the couch that was slightly out of view of the door leading into the room. He had no intention of being surprised like the last time.

Before any words were said, a volley of kisses started with almost no hint of rush or desperation. They were getting more comfortable with this physical aspect of their relationship.

“Mhmm,” Cedric breathed, breaking the kiss and moving to rest his cheek against Harry’s forehead.

Harry savored Cedric’s scent and didn’t complain when Cedric turned his body slightly so that they were now seated on the couch with their knees touching and Cedric still holding onto his hands.

“Now, I got you a present as well,” Cedric began as he let go of one of Harry’s hands before reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a small box.

He gave it to Harry, slightly nervous and hoping that it wouldn’t be too weird.

“Cedric, you didn’t have to get me anything,” Harry stated. He released Cedric’s hands and unwrapped the black box and opened it.

“A ring?” Harry asked, confused at what it meant but appreciating the intricate design. He had never worn jewelry before and this particular design didn’t seem like something that he saw a lot of others wearing – not that he tended to notice those things.

“It’s not what you think,” Cedric quickly put forth and lifted the ring from the box and presented it to Harry.

“It’s a Claddagh ring,” Cedric began to fill Harry in on what it meant.

“The crown represents loyalty, the hands indicate friendship, and the heart symbolizes, well, you know. At the very least, I want us always to be friends. It’s part of a traditional Irish custom from my dad’s side of the family. If you wear it on the right hand, and with the heart pointed towards you, well it means you belong to someone. So, I guess what I am asking, is will you make being my boyfriend official, between us at least? You don’t have to wear it if it makes you uncomfortable,” he added quickly realizing that this could have either gone really bad or really good. He was taking a chance here and didn’t want to freak Harry out.

But Harry interrupted him, “I love it.” His cheeks were red and his emerald eyes were shinning with a light from within.

“I don’t mind wearing it at all, and yes to your question,” he said and let Cedric place it on his finger. It was more comfortable than he expected and it was small enough to not be too obvious. But even if it were, it wasn’t uncommon for many of the other boys at Hogwarts to wear family rings. Harry was glad that it wouldn’t make him stand out even more, and it was something that Cedric had given him so that he could constantly remind himself that this was real.

Harry showed his appreciation with a kiss that started off very sweetly but picked up speed and progressed to a point that they both felt comfortable with.

However, both were more conscientious this time about someone walking in on them, even if they weren’t doing anything that shocking, and soon ended up cuddling and continuing one of their conversations from earlier. Harry was intrigued with O.W.L.s and was picking Cedric’s brain on what his experiences had been; Harry had every intention of seeing how well he could do this year.

 

* * *

Molly Weasley had settled on having a late afternoon feast instead of needing to provide two separate meals. Though, she did plan on having an array of desserts for later, so in some ways she really was planning for two either way.

Regardless of the technicalities, the food was scrumptious and everyone helped themselves to a generous amount of helpings; however, most would need a few minutes of peaceful relaxation before they could move around again.

Once everyone had begun to digest some of the food, a few presents were handed out. Hermione had, of course, given Harry some books – and slyly managed to include a calendar with important study timelines for O.W.L.s already filled in. Meanwhile, Ron had continued his trend of giving Harry another book on quidditch, while Molly gave him plenty of treacle tart to take home with him. It was relaxing and exactly how Harry had wanted to spend his birthday.

At first, Cedric had felt a little overwhelmed, having never before experienced a family of this size. Most of his family events were quite small and there were never more than two children – and none acted quite The Weasleys did.

But he was soon talking to Fred and George, who were thanking him for making them quite a bit of money in the tournament. Cedric had told them that it was his pleasure for surviving, and then they began a more earnest discussion about their upcoming N.E.W.T.s.

Harry was engaged with Hermione and Ron, both of whom had noticed how relaxed Harry was considering everything that had so recently happened.

“Harry?” Hermione caused him to look at her.

“Yeah?” he responded, lying on his back under a tree and absentmindedly playing with this new ring and rubbing his thumb over it.

“It’s nice seeing you so happy for once,” she commented, careful with her choice of words.

“Especially considering that, well, You-Know-Who is back and everything. You really seem like you have grown, in a very good way, since the end of last year.”

Harry rolled onto his side to get a better look at her, and propped his head up with his hand.

“Well, I do feel different.”

Ron raised his head so that all three were a part of this.

“And I think it is partly because of being just so used to everything we have done before that the thought of _him_ being back just doesn’t seem as overwhelming as it should. You know?”

They nodded, agreeing that it was something in the back of their minds that they had been kind of expecting to happen, even if they couldn’t explicitly put it into words. Their lives had been pretty eventful when one thought about it.

“And I guess I changed after seeing my mum. Now I have this great memory of her, and I feel more at ease. Of course, not being at The Dursley’s is certainly a plus, and living with Sirius has been fantastic. It just finally feels like I am part of a family.” He put his head back down and moved onto his back, soaking up the warmth and the feel of the grass on his bare feet. He didn’t want to get into the business about the scar yet as he didn’t have anything further to add.

“Anything else?” Hermione asked, feeling like all of them were great reasons for him to be so happy, but not quite believing they were the only things. Often, she would notice that something was out of sorts but then it would take her some careful contemplation until she could finally put her finger on it.

‘No matter,’ she thought in a rare moment of not caring that she hadn’t figured something out. She was just so happy for her friend that she didn’t care about the reason.

Ron knew though, it was oddly something that he had noticed when Harry had shown up with Sirius, Remus, and Cedric. It just clicked into his brain when he saw how they were looking at each other when they didn’t think anyone else was looking. He supposed he had picked up on it after several discussions with his older brother, Charlie, on what he had dealt with in coming out and how heavy into secrecy his first few relationships had been. Plus, thinking about Harry distracted him from his newfound awareness that Hermione was growing into a woman, a very beautiful woman. Or maybe she had always been beautiful and he just hadn’t realized it until now – he didn’t think she looked any different.

At any rate, Ron didn’t care. Harry, his friend, his first true friend, had more reason than most to be happy and he didn’t care in the slightest if Harry was with a guy. He just didn’t want to be around when Ginny found out.

“I saw the planner Hermione, I’m surprised you aren’t ready for O.W.L.s now. ” Harry teased his friend slightly.

“Well, they are one of the most important things we will ever do. I mean, they will determine what classes we can continue with, which decides which N.E.W.T.s that we can take, and ultimately, what careers we can have. We should have started ages ago.”

Harry and Ron couldn’t help it: they started laughing.

“Yep, she’s ready for them,” Ron chided.

“I don’t know how many Os she will get though; as of right now it doesn’t look good. There could possibly be an E thrown in and then life as we know it is ruined.”

“Ha. Ha.” She retorted, used to their antics and thinking of how far they had come from actually meaning what they said. Their next comment proved it.

“I have something that will make you happy, Hermione. I’ve already gotten my fifth year books, have already started looking at them, and reviewed years one through four. I’m looking forward to seeing what I can do this year.”

“But… I haven’t even gotten mine yet.” She stuttered.

The old Ron would have thought that both of them had gone off the deep end, well, that Harry had followed Hermione off of the deep end. However, he really was turning over a new leaf.

“I hate to say this Hermione, but we got our books as well. I know the letter hasn’t come yet, but my parents have been through this enough to know what books we will need.”

Hermione could just stare at the pair of them.

“What have I turned you boys into?” She jokingly mocked.

“Tis a shame,” Ron lamented. “We had such bright futures.”

They couldn’t hold it in anymore and they all started gasping for air with their hands clutched to their stomachs, tears pouring down their cheeks.

When the giggle fits wore off, and their stomachs finally emptying from all of the food they had stuffed in there, they got together in the large field next to their house and drew up quidditch teams.

Harry and Cedric refused to be seekers, each wanting to play a different spot. Fred and George felt the same and volunteered their services as chasers, though in the end, each team had three chasers and a goalie. No one had really wanted to deal with beaters or a snitch in a friendly game. Remus and Sirius had preferred to remain with Molly and Arthur and watched the events from the sideline, each with their own adult beverage.

The game carried on as the sun started to go down, and then Molly called the game, beckoning them to come inside to get washed up before dessert.

Charlie and Bill were the first to put their brooms away and were walking ahead with Fred and George. Ginny had made a beeline to the house to freshen up before the boys destroyed the bathroom.

Hermione and Ron were walking alongside Harry and Cedric when it happened. The temperature suddenly dropped and Harry started to feel sick. His knees gave out from under him as a faint pleading of help entered his mind. Cedric was also feeling the effects but had managed to catch Harry and was supporting him as Hermione and Ron were huddled close together, both with looks of abject horror on their face.

“Dementors,” Harry gasped, causing looks of realization to wash over the faces of the others.

Even as he said it, a hooded figure descended upon Ron and Hermione and Harry gathered his courage and forced his mind to relive that laugh he had shared with his friends under the tree only a few hours ago.

He separated from Cedric and pointed his wand directly at his friends.

“ _Expecto Protronum_ ,” he roared.

A luminous stag erupted from the tip and galloped to his friends, driving off the menacing creature and standing guard over them.

But Harry was confused and could still feel the Dementor’s effects even though he had just driven the creature away - when his heart sank…

“Harry,” a voice rattled behind him.

Harry whipped around, briefly locking eyes with Cedric before they glossed over and a Dementor put his hands on Cedric’s shoulders, obscuring him from view.

With every fiber in his being he willed his white stag over to Cedric, his boyfriend, as fast as it could fly.

Behind them, Sirius and Remus were leading the charge from the house and the protonuses of Bill, Charlie, Remus, and Sirius were cast and running at the group, though still at a distance.

The Dementor was thrust aside by Harry’s stag, but not before extracting the last bit of what it had desired to collect.

Heat and color returned to Harry’s face as he rushed at Cedric, screaming his name.

“Cedric! Cedric,” Harry called, his hands connecting with Cedric’s shoulders in Harry’s attempt to wake him.

“No, please. Please!” He cried out into the night, knowing the horrible truth of what happened but not wanting to recognize it. Not able to recognize it. His head sank onto Cedric’s chest and his world crumbled into blackness.

Hermione stood, frozen besides Ron, making a heartbreaking realization that nearly split her own chest in two. Ron’s hand slipped quietly into hers and she grabbed it with all of her might.

Sirius was the first to reach them, out of breath, and his wand still being held in a defensive manner.

He saw Harry sobbing into Cedric’s still form, whose chest still rose and fell.

“What happened?” he asked, simply unwilling and unable to process the scene before him; his mind entering into shock.

“Cedric’s been kissed,” Hermione stated numbly, turning towards Ron for comfort and burying her head into his neck; she couldn’t stand the sight of such grief being stricken on her best friend.

An awful memory stirred in Charlie, and he fell onto his knees, his eyes full of sorrow as he watched Harry pass out from exhaustion.

 

**So… that happened. Again, it may not be what you think – and I did say this was going to be a Harry/Charlie fic.**

**Heh heh, thoughts?**


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: First, thank you for still reading! Second, we move onto the next part – which I will try not to make too depressing. We all deal with depression differently and I think Harry could react to this in several ways. I really believe that when the response can be so varied, it is always best to write what you know. Therefore, I am going with my interpretation of how I would react given everything that happened. In the interest of not spending pages and pages of Harry being in a catatonic state for a month before he returns to Hogwarts and boring the hell out of you or being incredibly sad - I will be moving him to Hogwarts relatively quickly. That is where he will deal will a lot of his issues and come to terms with things. And not everything he does will be rational because no one deals with these things rationally.
> 
> Also, do not fear: Umbitch will get hers in a most delicious way – even if it may take awhile. 
> 
> Just wanted to give a big thanks to all those who have reviewed or sent me a PM or really anyone that is reading it.

**Standard disclaimer about not owning anything; I am so thankful for JKR and all that she did for us. She gave us one of the greatest gifts, and so many people have taken to this site and played brilliantly with her creation. We should have a JKR day and it should be a global holiday!**

 

            Harry remained unconscious for an entire day. The emotional toll from losing Cedric combined with his exhausted energy levels from casting his Patronus had been a shock to his system. He would have woken up sooner but his mind was still trying to come to terms with what had happened. The grief was still too near for him to be able to process it properly, and so his unconscious mind had simply cut off his access to most of those memories and feelings and buried them deep within the recesses of his mind.

            However, he would still be vaguely aware that something terrible had happened to Cedric – but only to a point; he wouldn’t be able to think about what exactly had befallen his boyfriend or that it was permanent. If he passed that point, then he would risk unleashing a flurry of unresolved issues and forcing him to deal with them.

However, his body would certainly be able to feel the loss even if his mind was allowing him to be in denial of some of the issues. An ache settled into the center of his chest that would stay with him for quite a long time.

            Harry’s sleeping form had been watched over by Sirius, who had remained by his side the entire time, his hand protectively holding onto Harry’s and willing him to wake up. And eventually, his eyes did open – but they had changed. They were no longer vibrant and the color of shining emeralds, now they were dull, lifeless orbs that were speckled with gray streaks. From that moment on, Sirius knew that the road to recovery was going to be a long one.

And those first few, conscious breaths that Harry took were some of the hardest that he had ever taken…

           

**Ministry Seeks Safety Reform**

            _By Rita Skeeter_

 

_My Dear Readers,_

_In a landmark move, the late August session of the Wizenagamot enacted legislation that will impact the lives of the young witches and wizards that attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The new bill, Educational Decree Number Twenty Two, provides for a Ministry employee to be a member of Hogwarts’ staff to facilitate easier and more effective communication between the two illustrious institutions. The Minister is pleased to announce the appointment of Dolores Umbridge to the post, who in addition to her Ministry duties at Hogwarts will also fill the vacant position in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Ms. Umbridge was recently appointed the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister and has his full confidence in this endeavor. Furthermore, the legislation also provides an Auror to be stationed at Hogwarts. This is hoped to foster a safer environment for our children who attend the celebrated school in light of that tragic event concerning wayward Dementors…_

Harry’s indistinct, green eyes quickly read the beginning of the front page of the Daily Prophet before starting to feel an uncomfortable sensation that threatened to overwhelm him as he read past tragic events involving Dementors. He quickly and quietly passed the paper along to Hermione, who accepted the wrinkled pages as they were offered. Her eyes were wary and heartbroken after watching her friend silently suffer over the past month.

Both her and Ron had essentially moved into Grimmauld Place about a week after his birthday, which Sirius had been grateful for, seeing as how he didn’t really know what to do. Harry had barely spoken in the month since Cedric’s accident, and everyone assumed because it was too difficult for him to speak about, let alone process. Though, they were sure he hadn’t even begun to deal with it.

Sirius had been unable to find a way around the wall that Harry had put up in the aftermath of the tragedy that had befallen Cedric. Harry was devoid of most emotions that one would have expected him to run through: he didn’t cry, scream, or really even get angry. Sirius had even had a Mind Healer come to Grimmauld Place – since leaving his home was something that Harry had showed no interest in doing – but even a professional couldn’t get Harry to open up about what he was feeling or even mention Cedric. Harry had just sat there, ignoring what the Mind Healer was even saying, until he had simply had enough and got up and left the room.

Harry acted like he was on autopilot: he would respond to yes or no questions but never offered anything further. He would spend most of the time in his room outside of meals and using the bathroom. And when he did venture about the halls of Grimmauld Place, it was usually to go to the library to pull out yet another ancient tome that he would spend the rest of the day perusing. Unbeknownst to the others, he had already gone through his books for the upcoming year.

His inability to sleep for more than a few hours contributed significantly to the amount of material that he could go through. It was easier for him to fully focus on this than to think about his real issues. Only a few times did he ever come close to touching on what he needed to come to terms with, but even as his left hand played with the ring that Cedric had given him, he never completely was able to shake his denial. It was as if he thought to himself that Cedric was just away and would be coming back eventually.

Any of the life or joy that Sirius or Remus had witnessed on the morning of his birthday when Cedric had been over was gone, replaced with a haunted, almost vacant expression. Sirius had stopped trying to get Harry to open up, and hoped – for that was all he could do – that, in time, Harry would find some way to get through this.

Sirius had even gone to the Ministry and convinced Amelia and the Minister to let him rejoin the Aurors, which he said he would do for no pay if he could only be stationed at Hogwarts for the year. His only goal - his only thought - was to be as close to Harry as possible during the upcoming year and the Ministry had jumped on his generous offer, knowing that it would help allay some of the fears in the wake of Cedric being kissed.

The populace was terrified and didn’t know what to think. Some were even calling for the removal of the Dementors from Azkaban so that they could be sacrificed; the only problem was that no one knew how to kill a Dementor. The best one could hope for was to be able to drive them off, and the Ministry was forced to offer sessions where they attempted to teach the Patronus Charm.

Sirius had gone to them with his request after Harry had said that he would return to Hogwarts, which Sirius would not have forced him to do – he didn’t have it in him to cause Harry one more iota of discomfort if he could help it. Harry had only elaborated that it was something that he had had to do and so he would do it.

Back at the kitchen table, where Hermione had just been given the Daily Prophet that featured Educational Decree Number Twenty Two, everyone present was lost in their own thoughts that centered on this unfortunate event. At times, they would have the occasional stray thought about what things would be like if it had never happened at all. That was much easier to think about than the present, but it also made the present that much ore difficult to return to. So, they tried to keep those thoughts at bay or put them in the future about things were going to turn out.

All of these thoughts were in running through everyone’s mind except Hermione, who had accepted the article that Harry had given her and read it, albeit taking more careful consideration with the announcement than the others had. She wondered if this recent Educational Decree and had more to do with Voldemort’s return or what had happened to Cedric. She, of course, knew about Sirius’ new position because she had inadvertently given him the idea one day, and Sirius was hoping to use that to give Harry something, anything, to be slightly cheerful about.

Hermione folded the paper and set it down, conveying to Ron that the article had appeared with a slight side-to-side movement with her eyes, going from Sirius to Harry. He nodded his understanding, pushing his plate that still had food on it away. Ron had felt so horrible for Harry that he had lost weight in the past month because he was too unhappy to eat.

Hermione then motioned to Sirius, who was trying not to stare at his Godson, wishing that he could do anything to take the pain away. Hermione hoped that this would cause Harry to smile, but she doubted that it would have any effect, and that Harry would react to it just like he had reacted to everything else.

“Did you see the paper, Harry?” Sirius still had a faint trace of optimism in his eyes that this could help bring Harry out of his shell.

            Harry nodded, absentmindedly finishing his meager breakfast – but at least he was eating – and reading his newest book that prevented him from thinking about Cedric on this particular day. And when that was finished he would simply move onto the next book, allowing him to put off thoughts of Cedric indefinitely.

            “Curious as to who the Auror will be?” Sirius asked hopefully; he had been saving the news of this for a few days.

            Harry barely shrugged his shoulders and kept his focus on the text.

            Hermione gave Sirius a pained look, but hoped that Sirius would never give up on Harry, no matter how long it took – because she never would.

“I will be the Auror, Harry. I’ll be able to stay close by all year.” Ron’s eyes were torn between Harry and Hermione, who he had gotten used to communicating silently with so as to not say certain things in front of Harry.

It hardly registered on his face, but he did nod his head, in par with the reaction they had expected.

“May I be excused?” Harry asked quietly. “I need to finish packing,” he stated dully; however, it was the most he had ever said at one time, and they would hold onto any positive sign or thing that they could.

“Sure, pup. Did you need any help?” Everyone at the table, besides Harry, noticed the pleading in Sirius’ voice.

Harry simply shook his head, moved his dishes to the sink – Kreacher had even stopped trying to protest him cleaning up after himself because he too was concerned over Harry’s well-being and had been ordered by Sirius to ‘just go with it’ – and exited the room.

It was silent for a few moments until Remus placed his hand on Sirius’ shoulder, giving the man some form of comfort. The four of them were used to being in the kitchen together. They had spent many hours, sometimes going well into the early morning talking about Harry and debating what the next step should be.

“I wish I knew what to do,” Sirius sighed into his hands, dropping his head onto the table.

“Even if you did everything right,” Remus’ steady voice sounded, “Harry needs time to deal with this in his own way. We all know what his life has been like these past few years, and the only thing we can hope is that he finds a way through this.”

“I just want to know he is going to be fine. I even went to Dumbledore about this last week. I pleaded with him to perform Legilimency, to make sure that we hadn’t lost him to misery.”

Remus didn’t know the man had been that desperate to do something that he knew wouldn’t work. It must have been during a weak moment where he couldn’t stand the pain hurting Harry anymore and simply being unable to do anything about it.

Ron and Hermione had learned somewhat about Occlumency and Legilimency, but didn’t fully understand the implications of what they were discussing.

“Albus tried to comfort me then. He reminded me of what I knew: Legilimency would be of no use in this situation based on how Harry was acting. He said that Harry was likely so entrenched in his own mind that in this state he would be likely to keep out even Voldemort, the most vicious Legilimens in the world.”

In fact, Albus had been quite concerned with how Harry was taking this, and, even though he wanted to know what was going on in Harry’s mind, he wouldn’t have performed Legilimency even if he could have. There were some lines that even Albus just wouldn’t cross.

“Dumbledore went on to say that we have done all that we can do and to just keep doing it. He said that both of you,” he looked to Ron and Hermione,” should continue to stay by his side in case he opens up, which he assured me would come.”

Ron and Hermione didn’t have to look at the other one to know that they were equally committed to their friend for life and would do anything to help him become whole again.

“Albus reminded me that I had been at rock-bottom before, with losing James and Lily and then spending all of those years in Azkaban. And he was right: I did manage to come out of it, but I had people to help me through it.” He looked Remus, his oldest living friend, and grabbed his arm.

“We have to promise to be there for Harry. No matter what.” Sirius finished.

They all nodded in agreement and then relaxed into their chairs.

“Where do we go from here?” Hermione asked, her brown eyes looking at each of them in turn before settling in the general direction of where Harry’s room was.

Remus answered her.

“You and Ron just keep doing what you have been doing. I’m sure there will be some stares at school, but I’m told the teachers will be on hand to head a majority of this off. I expect that Hufflepuffs will take this the hardest since he was really looked up to in his house.”

“Is Harry going to go visit Cedric before we go?” Ron asked, wringing his fingers in his agitated state.

“I don’t think so,” Sirius uttered, knowing that each person responded to tragedy differently.

“I know it can be difficult to understand his reasoning in this, but I think he is still in denial now. Seeing Cedric, lying there in St. Mongo’s, will make it final for him. The Mind Healer said as much to me after things didn’t go well with her session with him.”

Hermione had understood it when it had been put that way.

Sirius refilled his steaming cup of tea, and sat there, thinking about when he went to offer his condolences to Amos and his wife. They had been unaware of Harry and Cedric’s relationship and Sirius had told them that Harry was bereft at the loss of a close friend, which they could understand under the auspice of Harry’s youth. Sirius couldn’t imagine their loss, but at the same time, was thankful that they harbored no ill will towards him or Harry or anyone that had been at The Weasleys that night.

           They considered the event for the simple tragedy that the Daily Prophet had made it out to be: rogue Dementors raining terror down upon the countryside. They were just thankful that more lives hadn’t been lost, even if they wished that it had happened to someone other than their son. To them, Cedric’s life would forever be at St. Mongo’s until his body gave out. Wizards didn’t believe in ending someone’s life support, despite knowing that the soul was no longer there.

            Sirius’s thoughts were interrupted by Hermione and Ron getting up from the table, with Hermione so lost in her own head that she left her dishes on the table for Kreacher to clean up. Normally, she tried to do everything in her power to not be a burden on the elf, which just made him mad at having more person around that didn’t need him.

            The pair of teenagers moved to the library, where instead of grabbing one of the many books she would have liked to read, she just sat down on the other end of the large sofa that Ron was seated at. They shared a deep, meaningful look before returning to their own thoughts. Soon, they each drifted off to sleep, the many nights of staying up late finally catching up with them.

 

* * *

The news of the Dementor attack had interested him greatly. How had two Dementors found their way so far from where they were bound to serve the Ministry at Azkaban?

At first, he had been enraged, thinking that either Bella or Barty would have been so monumentally stupid as to do something involving Harry Potter without his explicit permission. But they had denied it, even under the duress of his Cruciatus Curse.

‘Who then,’ he had thought, ‘would have done it?’ He was sure that Dumbledore and the Ministry would have assumed that he was behind it, but the increased awareness of the populace to some of the horrors of their world and the increased defense of Hogwarts were some of the last things that he wanted. His goal for right now was to quietly build up his strength and then attack; he didn’t want them prepared, he wanted them weak and susceptible. The Dark Lord was displeased that there was someone unknown to consider, a new player emerging and throwing a wrench into his plans.

He wondered if perhaps one of his former followers had tried to please him and atone for not serving him fully after that Halloween night. It was too soon to make his presence fully known to his Death Eaters, but he would soon get to the bottom of it. Of course, that person would be punished for daring to make things harder for him if that turned out to be the case.

The Dark Lord was interrupted from his musings by a knock at his door and threw the Daily Prophet article to the side.

“Enter,” he commanded.

Bella and Barty entered his study, and walked towards him; both had their heads bent and kept their eyes focused on the floor, remembering all too well the effects of his curse that still lingered in their nerves.

“Yes?” he blurted impatiently.

“We have the information you requested, my Lord,” Bella prostrated herself before him while Barty handed a thick envelop over to him.

“That will be all,” he drawled, his red eyes alight with excitement at the contents that they had no doubt been researching far into the night. It was so much easier for him to have minions to take care of the mundane tasks so that he could focus on more important matters.

Bella quickly picked herself up off of the floor and followed Barty out of his chambers, leaving Voldemort to begin devising his plan of acquiring the prophecy with no one being the wiser.

           

           

* * *

Dolores Umbridge patted herself on the back. Finally, she would get some of the credit that she was due. It had been difficult with Harry living in a place that was unplottable, but she had been patient and a perfect opportunity presented itself at his birthday party of all things. Well, not quite so perfect. She would have preferred him to either be kissed or kicked out of the magical world for performing underage magic, but too many adults had witnessed it to be able to play that angle.

‘Serves him right, the little liar,’ she thought, not even disappointed that her target had managed to survive while some Diggory boy had been kissed instead. The effect was still the same: she had been promoted to a special position that came with great publicity after what had been denied her in the wake of the Triwizard Tournament. Then, she just had to teach at Hogwarts for a year and work in a few more Daily Prophet articles that celebrated the important work that she was doing. Hopefully, by that point, this whole charade of preparing for war with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named will have settled down and she could return to a hero’s welcome at the Ministry and finally take up being Senior Undersecretary in the way it should have happened the first time.

And from there, with all of that power and recognition, she could make her bid for

Minister after Cornelius left. Oh, the thought made her giddy with anticipation and she could hardly stop her sweet and sickly smile; this had ended up working out far better than she had hoped. Dolores congratulated herself on a job well done and finished packing all of her fine, cat-adorned china that she would be taking to Hogwarts.

 

           

* * *

The journey to King’s Cross from Grimmauld Place was short. Sirius had offered to take Harry directly to Hogwarts with him later that evening so that he didn’t have to face the other students on the train; but Harry had just mumbled something about getting it out of the way.

            They arrived early and quickly found an empty compartment in the back of the train, which Harry wasted no time in pulling out his current book and getting comfortable after he stowed his belongings.

            Hermione and Ron finished putting their things away and then quickly changed into their robes, knowing that they had to serve as prefects later in the journey. Ron had felt weird that he had been selected over Harry, but his friend had simply given him a brief nod and that had been the end of that. Still, Ron tried not to make it seem like a big deal, and had prevented his mum from trying to have a party over it to celebrate.

            Harry was pretty much silent for the entire journey and barely even acknowledged when Ron and Hermione went to get their instructions from the Head Boy and Head Girl this year. Although, they didn’t use the term Head Boy because Cedric would have likely gotten it and they had gotten used to steering clear of all references of Harry’s brief boyfriend.

            After they left, Harry casted a few charms that would keep nosy people away from him. He had no desire to have a run-in with Malfoy and would have had no patience for dealing with his tripe or any qualms about using his wand to silence the boy. He may have been in denial about coming to terms with what happened, but he had learned a great deal of magic this summer.

Plus, with the considerable amount of time that he had spent inside his head during the month of August – especially at night when he couldn’t sleep - nearly all of his memories were stored and he had a tremendous ability to recall a majority of what he had learned, instantly. Though, not all of his memories had been successively dealt with; the ones that involved Cedric in some way had been relegated to a distance corner of his night sky, near the horizon where he never had to deal with them. This also partly explained his behavior over the past month, because doing all of this had given him something to do to occupy his time and thoughts.

Eventually Hermione and Ron returned when they were approaching Hogsmeade, and passed through Harry’s wards easily and unknowingly.

They lingered behind on the train for a moment, letting all of the other students disembark before catching one of the last carriages to the castle.

 

**Let me know what you think!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: First, thank you for still reading! Second, I think that in some situations it is easier to keep it together until you are forced to come to terms with something, which I find can happen in the most unexpected ways. For me, it can be the littlest things that cause me to not be able to hide from something anymore. This is my interpretation of that for Harry
> 
> And Umbitch is back at Hogwarts; I am currently taking requests for how she gets hers in the end.

**Standard disclaimer about not owning anything; I am so thankful for JKR and all that she did for us. She gave us one of the greatest gifts, and so many people have taken to this site and played brilliantly with her creation. We should have a JKR day and it should be a global holiday!**

The three of them approached the Great Hall at a slow pace, none of them really looking forward to being surrounded by students who would no doubt have a morbid curiosity of their first-hand account of what had happened over the summer. Hermione was concerned that the reaction would be too much for Harry, and while the students may have been unaware of his relationship with the older Hufflepuff, she was sure that the fact that it had taken place at the Burrow would cause them – along with Fred and George and Ginny – to stand out. And it didn’t help that it had occurred on Harry’s birthday, which despite not being a public holiday was still well known by a majority of the population.

            Hermione would not get to find out about their reaction to Harry, however, because he stopped as soon as they rounded the corner and were greeted with the roaring din of chatter coming from the Great Hall.

            They were barely outside of the entrance and Harry hadn’t even set one foot inside of the doorway, but he couldn’t and wouldn’t enter the Great Hall because right in front of him was the Hufflepuff table.

            Ron and Hermione, who were on either side of him, stopped when he did, looking to their friend to see what had caused him to stop so abruptly.

            Both had felt Harry’s body tense beside them, and when they turned to face him they saw the haunted expression reflected in his eyes.

            Harry tilted his head down slightly, his shoulders started to sag while his right hand rose to clench the fabric over his heart. They saw his face descend into utter sadness.

            “Cedric…” he painfully said, marking the first time that Harry had mentioned his name since the kiss.

           He looked to his friends, not knowing what to do in that moment as those memories and feelings that had been buried in the corner of his mind were suddenly unable to be kept hidden any longer. Hermione wisely and swiftly guided Harry away from anyone who may have been glancing in their direction and into a small alcove where Ron provided additional privacy, standing guard as some of the very late stragglers made their way into the feast.

            Harry’s breathing was picking up, and Hermione had her hands on his cheek and was standing right in front of him.

            “Harry, what. What is it about Cedric?” Her eyes were searching his, pleading for him to open up to her, anyone, finally.

            Tears began to spill over Harry’s cheeks as he finally came to realize that Cedric wasn’t in the Great Hall where he was supposed to be. Even though he knew that something had happened, he had become so used to not seeing him in the beginning of the summer that it was easier for his mind to ignore the truth of what had happened thinking that everything would be all right somehow when he returned to Hogwarts. Cedric could simply have gone on holiday somewhere and was unable to write to him; his mind could have made any excuse to stave off what it didn’t want to think.

            But everything was not all right, and Harry couldn’t deny Cedric’s encounter with the Dementor any longer.

            “Cedric’s not there,” Harry choked out, finding it difficult to breathe and not quite being able to meet Hermione’s brown eyes.

            An understanding passed over Hermione’s face, and even Ron suspected that Harry had finally come face to face with what he had been running from because of the simple fact that Cedric was no longer at the Hufflepuff table. Both Hermione and Ron could have kicked themselves; they should have anticipated this. Heck, they all should have anticipated this!

            The emotions inside of Harry were so overwhelming and he was starting to feel the effect of keeping them locked away for so long. He had no desire to go anywhere, but knew that he couldn’t remain where he was. But then, he started to feel uncomfortable in the presence of his friends, and he had no choice but to go somewhere where he could be alone and no one would be able to reach him.

            “I can’t…” he started to say as he broke contact with Hermione and passed by Ron, quickly making his way in the opposite direction of the Great Hall.

           “Harry!” Hermione tried to keep her voice down as she followed him, Ron keeping up with the pace, and looking over his shoulder to make sure they weren’t causing a scene or being followed.

            They stopped when Harry did and he turned to look at them, a crestfallen expression apparent over every inch of him.

            “Please, I need to be alone.” He stated in a hollow tone, his eyes pleading with Hermione to give him this.

            “But,” she started to protest when Ron’s arm wrapped around her, effectively silencing her.

            “Sure, mate,” the obviously older and more mature-sounding Weasley acquiesced.

           Harry gave a shaky nod before turning and rounding a corner to find a place that only he could get to.

            Hermione and Ron stood there for a few moments, feeling powerless to help their friend.

            “I don’t think we should have let him run off,” Hermione stated numbly.

            Ron kept his arm firmly around her shoulder and used his other arm to turn her body so that she faced him.

            “I don’t think we had much of a choice, Hermione. I know he is hurting, but maybe we should let him. It may not have been the most ideal time for him to come to terms with what happened – but, shouldn’t we be glad that it is finally happening?”

            Ron wiped away the tear stain that had just fallen past Hermione’s cheek.

            “We will be there for him, and we can even go looking for him after the feast if you want to. But right now, just let him go – the best thing we can do right now is cover for him and give him space. There are worst places for him to be alone than Hogwarts.”

            She nodded shakily, at a loss for words, but thankful that Ron had apparently grown up and was able to be there for her and Harry now when they really needed him to be.

            He led her back down the hall, and they entered the feast just as Albus started to silence the crowd to welcome them back for another year and to briefly discuss the events of the summer. He then moved onto introduce his newest hires, one who had until recently been a wanted man and the other resembling a large toad.

 

* * *

 

            Harry wasn’t consciously thinking as he ran away from the feast, flashes of banished memories were returning to him faster than he could even discern individual scenes and instances among them. It was chaos inside his mind, a dizzying frenzy of emotions that he knew he would have to deal with now.

            He didn’t even question why he was outside Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom, or why he had opened the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets; the rational part of his mind that was left to him had seemingly taken over his body, directing him to the one place in the castle that no one else could get to.

            He unknowingly sealed the entrance behind him and illuminated the journey ahead of him with his wand. His feet managed to find their footing and he jumped over a large section of shed snakeskin. The weird thing was that he was beginning to find solace, even as he made his way to the snake seal, before at last reaching the large chamber where the dead Basilisk lied.

            It took Harry by surprise at first because it was perfectly preserved. The carcass looked just it just been killed yesterday when in fact more than two years had passed since he had had his second encounter with Voldemort, who at the time had been only a year older than he himself was now.

            He walked slowly towards the snake, his crisis with Cedric momentarily forgotten as he reached out to touch the thick hide of the creature that had almost killed him had it not been for the healing property in Fawke’s tears.

            Satisfied that it was indeed dead, he felt the rush of everything returning to him and he dropped to his knees in a similar position to when he had a Basilisk’s fang lodged in his arm. Only this time, the pain wasn’t a poison that was slowly killing him; it was much worse. His heart ached for Cedric, for what he had thought he had found and been able to have for such a short time.

            A guttural cry escaped his throat as he began sobbing for yet something else that had been taken violently away from him: his parents, his childhood, and now Cedric. He couldn’t take the pain or loss anymore and mourned his agony in the only way that he could at the moment. It was different than he had ever handled anything before; though, as time went on he could feel bits of himself become numb, as if different parts were becoming closed off – unable to open themselves up again to experience more pain.

            It was some time before the intensity of the sobs lessened and he began to wipe away the snot and tears that now covered his shirt. It was late and the feast had ended hours ago, but he didn’t feel like leaving just yet. He didn’t know how to return to the world that kept challenging him far beyond what he thought he was capable of or willing to face. He had only just accepted that Cedric was no longer there, but he hadn’t even begun to come to terms with it or begin moving on. He just didn’t know how and he didn’t think that anyone could help him.

            But he was too exhausted to think anymore. Even with the vast emptiness he now found in the center of his chest, he leaned against the slain Basilisk and pulled his robes tightly around him as sleep and some small measure of peace overtook him.

 

* * *

 

            Hermione and Ron were worried. Harry hadn’t come back to Gryffindor that night and with their newfound responsibilities as Prefects, they couldn’t begin their search for him until later that evening.

At least they had managed to prevent Sirius from worrying over Harry’s absence with some quick thinking about him eating food that Kreacher had packed him on the train and just wanting to go to sleep. Sirius had tried to tell himself that that was the reason, but deep down, he knew that something was wrong.

It was fortunate that they now had permission to be out wandering the halls after curfew, which Hermione was extremely thankful for. But it wouldn’t have stopped her: she would have broken all of the rules to make sure her friend was safe.

            It was also lucky that they had arrived to Hogwarts on a Friday because they returned empty-handed in the early hours of the morning, but even with the opportunity to have a bit of a lie-in they were still too on edge about Harry. Hermione was beginning to doubt that Harry was even in the castle, and her worry was that he had run off outside and gotten himself into something.

            Ron was the voice of reason, again, easing Hermione’s fears.

            “He has his cloak and map and I don’t think it would be all that difficult for him to hide from us. For all we know, he is holed up in The Chamber of Secrets – and then there really is nothing we can do about that.”

            “Do you really think Harry would go into the chamber?” Her eyes were wide with fear.

Ron just shrugged.

“I’m just saying there are places he can get to that we can’t that are still inside the castle. If he doesn’t turn up today, then we can go to Dumbledore.”

“I suppose,” Hermione conceded.

They parted in the common room, each going up their separate staircases that led to their respective dormitories.

Ron entered his room and found Neville, Seamus, and Dean sleeping peacefully. It was then that Ron had realized how much he had really grown over the past years. He was jealous of how peaceful they looked, at how little they had been through compared to him. Even with Neville growing up with his grandmother was somewhat preferable to always finding himself in mortal danger. He understood now just how bad that Harry had it and just how silly he had been for coveting any of the fame that had come with being Harry Potter. He just wanted him and his friends to be happy and content like his roommates, who looked like they didn’t have a care in the world and would wake up without the worry that Ron would have.

He stared at Harry’s empty bed for minute before falling onto his bed, not even having the energy to change out of his robes. He fell asleep instantly, his face still showing all of the troubles and fears that he was carrying.

 

* * *

 

Harry wasn’t at breakfast, though it wasn’t surprising seeing as how people ate at markedly different times on the weekend. Some were early risers while others preferred to sleep in a little more. However, he did show up at lunch with red eyes that had noticeable swelling.

His presence went more or less unnoticed, though not everyone from the school was present. On weekends, both breakfast and lunchtime overlapped so there were always some people present but never the whole school at one time. Dinner was the only time with a set schedule in which the entire school had to be there.

Luckily, Hermione and Ron were there, both having slept past the breakfast hour.

Ron was the first to see Harry approach, and he quietly kicked Hermione’s foot and then directed her eyes over to where Harry was when they looked up to him.

            She quickly made room as he sat down next to her. He started pilling some food on his plate and took several gulps of pumpkin juice, as he was borderline dehydrated from all of his spent tears.

            Hermione and Ron were nervous as to how this would play out, both knew that Harry could have a bit of a temper but so far he seemed sedated. They wanted to ask him how he was doing but would wait for him to bring up anything. Deep down, they were just relieved that he seemed physically all right. Inside, however, Harry was not able to feel any particular emotion at the moment besides the marked depression that had set in.

            Since he had woken up in the chamber, he had felt dull and weighed down with no possible idea of how he could ever feel whole again. The thought of laughter or joy was so far removed from him that he thought he couldn’t possibly feel that way ever again. He had spent a good portion of the morning just staring at the ring that Cedric had given him, which brought about a few more rounds of tears.

            Harry felt the weight of their stares from his friends as he put some much-needed sustenance in his belly, and the only reason he spoke at all was because of their history together. But even then, he didn’t tell say much; it was just something to break the ice.

            “Hi,” he said, as if that would convey everything.

            Ron and Hermione didn’t know how to reply to that, and just went with the obvious.

“Hi,” each of them said in turn.

Harry continued taking small bites of his food while they all sat in an uncomfortable silence, no one wanting to be the one to state the obvious.

Fortunately, or unfortunately rather, they were interrupted by Severus Snape.

“Mr. Potter,” he began, emphasizing each syllable in his own unique way of contempt.

“How kind of you to finally grace us with your presence.”

Harry kept staring silently at his half-eaten plate of food; he wasn’t in the mood for this and didn’t know what would happen if he had to look at that man’s face right now.

“The Headmaster would like to see you after lunch in his office. He wants you to know that he is overly found of Lemon Drops.” Snape raised his eyebrow at Harry’s lack of response.

“Yes, sir,” he managed, the hoarseness of his voice from his raw throat becoming more apparent.

Snape stared at the back of Harry’s head for a moment longer, trying to figure out what the boy was up to with his lack of cheek, before he continued on his way out of the Great Hall, his robes billowing dramatically behind him.

“What a wanker,” Ron huffed out.

“Ronald!” Hermione reprimanded, but clearly lacking her usual bite. She agreed with Ron, just not with the word that he had used.

“I can only guess as to what he wants to see me for.” Harry sighed as he put his fork down and rested his head upon his arms on the table.

Hermione and Ron shared a look; at least Harry was volunteering information to them this time. So they went with it.

“Harry?” Hermione said gently, her hand resting lightly on his arm.

He turned his head so that his right side rested on his right forearm and he looked at her.

“Is there anything that we can do?”

Harry was at a loss for words. What could anyone do to help someone, especially him in this situation? He still felt lethargic and imagined that he would feel depressed for a while. He didn’t see himself getting over this any time soon and he didn’t even know the direction to take that would get him there. Harry just didn’t know where ‘there’ was.

He answered her honestly.

“No, I don’t think anyone can help me with this. I don’t even know if time will be enough,” he said a bit dramatically, unable to see past the loss that was before him.

He sat upright, took a final strained look at his friends. He knew they meant well, but he just couldn’t open up to them. He had never been one that could describe his feelings to others because he had been so used to keeping them in and barely admitting them to himself.

He nodded at them before getting up, mentioning that he was off for his appointment with Dumbledore, and leaving his two friends alone.

“He’ll get there, Hermione.”

“I hope your right,” she replied not at all hopeful about the next few months. She didn’t see this getting resolved any time soon, not that she expected something of this magnitude to be over with quickly.

* * *

 

Sirius had been frantic; he had hardly slept last night knowing that Harry hadn’t been at dinner. He had quickly started to lose it when he didn’t show for breakfast either, but then, neither had Ron or Hermione. He was at wits end by the time Harry made his first appearance at lunch, and it took the restraining hand of Dumbledore to prevent him from going to him at the Gryffindor table. Harry looked like he had been crying, which made him want to run to him and give him comfort, but at the same time, he thought it was the first time that Harry had had a significant emotional outburst. So, he was concerned, but relieved; he just wish Harry had better timing. Why couldn’t this have happened at Grimmauld Place?

Dumbledore had then instructed Severus to pass along a message to Harry while Sirius and him excited the Great Hall from the teacher’s entrance and headed to his office to await Harry.

He kept pacing around the Headmaster’s office, his nerves were shot and he wouldn’t have been able to sit still.

How different his emotions were this time compared to when Harry had just finished competing in the tournament and he had been in Albus’ office waiting to surprise him.

A soft knock came at the door, and it slowly opened to reveal Harry, his eyes still red and slightly puffy.

Harry wasn’t surprised at all to see Sirius there, and quickly went to his side.

“Harry? Are you okay?”

Eyes far older than they should have been on someone so young returned his question; he didn’t even need to open his mouth or speak, but he did so anyway.

“Cedric’s not here; he’s, he’s gone.” As if that explained everything.

And in Sirius’ case, it did.

He didn’t know if Harry wanted to or needed to be hugged at this moment but he did so anyway, maybe he was the one that needed to know they would both get through this.

Sirius slowly closed the distance between them and initiated the hug, only to find that Harry accepted the hug but didn’t return it. His arms made the motion of hugging Sirius back but there was no emotion behind it.

“It’ll get better pup. It will.” He still hugged Harry tightly.

Harry didn’t know that it could better; he just knew that it couldn’t get much worse.

“I guess,” he said unconvincingly.

“Do you need anything?”

“Just time to myself.” Sirius ended the hug, not wanting to suffocate Harry who was at least starting to opening up, even if the scars that he was showing appeared very deep.

Sirius stepped back and looked Harry up and down. “You’ll come to me if you need anything?”

Harry shook his head in agreement, but not really meaning it. He knew Sirius was doing everything he could for him, but he supposed it didn’t feel right getting so close to someone after seeing how quickly they could be taken away.

Harry looked to Dumbledore, who knew something about what Harry was going through.

“That will be all, Harry.” He stated, his blue eyes looking at him, but not meeting his eyes. He didn’t want to be tempted to force entry in his state.

Harry nodded and took a last look at Sirius, who had so many emotions on his face. Harry wanted to feel bad, he knew that he should, but he didn’t. Harry really didn’t feel anything.

Sirius and Dumbledore watched the door close behind him and Sirius sunk in one of the plush chairs.

“He’ll come out of this Sirius, the boy just needs time.”

Sirius looked up to Albus then, something about the word ‘boy’ had resonated with him.

“I don’t think he was ever a boy, Albus. At least, I don’t think he was ever allowed to be.”

 

**I’m trying to make Harry detached, but still hurting. Basically, I kind of want him to feel a range of things, or, at least, react to this differently over time. Not quite the twelve stages, but something that feels reasonable. Anyways, let me know your thoughts on that. Thanks for reading.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, thank you for reading and reviewing and for all of the PMs. Second, it should be interesting to see how Harry reacts now that he is back in classes and applying himself while going through such an incredibly hard time. We have all been there – well not having your first romantic interest being taken out by Dementors (I hope) – but going through the motions as you try to deal with the pain or loss that you feel inside and being more or less numb to most, if not everything around you. My goal will be to slowly bring him back and come to terms with how he felt about Cedric and his future (and Charlie, though he doesn’t know it yet!).
> 
> Anyways, it should be fun to see how Umbridge behaves this time around and what Severus thinks about a more studious Potter.

**Standard disclaimer about not owning anything; I am so thankful for JKR and all that she did for us. She gave us one of the greatest gifts, and so many people have taken to this site and played brilliantly with her creation. We should have a JKR day and it should be a global holiday!**

 

 

            Harry opened his eyes slowly, dreading the return of his depressed feelings and the sense of hopelessness that had enveloped him. It was Monday morning and today would start his O.W.L. year, but that was a distant thought against the tightness in his chest. What little sleep that he had been able to get this weekend had been restless and unsatisfying. His dreams now centered on Cedric because his barrier that had kept those thoughts at bay had been broken; and he was constantly reliving multiple other ways in which he had failed to save his boyfriend. Oftentimes, Dementors got him in the end, but other times, it was something else. But he would still be just a second too late to keep him alive.

            Alive: that was something he had trouble processing now that he could think about Cedric getting kissed. His body was still functioning, but his soul – that part that made him Cedric – had been removed. In some ways, that was exactly how Harry felt right now.

He turned over onto his other side, knowing that it would be pointless for him to try and go back to sleep. The sun was rising anyways and without the aid of exhaustion, he knew that he would just lie there.

Time seemed to move incredibly slowly for him, as if each second had been lengthened just for him so that he could and would suffer more. Sometimes it was hard for him to think of making it through the next hour without his grief consuming him, but somehow he had found a way to not give in completely. So far, anyways.

Everything that he had ever experienced had given him the foundation to be able to withstand this tragedy. Even though it had nearly broken his spirit and resolve, there was still fight left in him - some small measure that it seemed would always be a part of him - or else he would have given up long before losing Cedric.

He threw the covers off of him and got himself ready for the day. He was up far earlier than the others, and gathered his belongings for the first day of class and ventured down to the common area to wait for Hermione and Ron to get up.

They had alternated between giving him space and trying to support him all weekend, and while he appreciated it, sometimes their presence only made it harder. How they acted around him was a constant reminder of his state as if he was looking into a mirror, not being able to forget what had happened for even a moment.

But he knew deep down, from years of experience, that not having them there would have been even worse – and he could only hope that someday, the future would be kinder to him. But right now, he didn’t feel like the pain would ever go away.

So, he continued on, indifferent to many things as he pulled out a new book and read on one of the couches until his friends woke up and joined him.

* * *

 

The Great Hall was full of energy; students were having a hard time sitting in their seats and kept comparing their schedules amongst their friends. It was always an exciting time to see what period you had off and if your friends also had that time period free as well – which usually only happened when you took the same core classes and electives. However, the dreaded part of getting your timetable was seeing which day you would come to loathe, fear, and basically come up with any excuse to skive off on; and, for the majority of the school, it tended to fall on days when you had your double block of Potions.

Hermione had already committed both hers and then Harry and Ron’s timetable to memory. First, they would start with Transfiguration and then their first Defense Against the Dark Arts class with their new professor – Professor Umbrella or something. Harry hadn’t really been paying attention to Hermione’s comments about the pompous and arrogant speech she had given after she had interrupted the Headmaster during the Welcoming Feast. It turned out that Hermione had been one of the only people to listen to the entire thing; apparently, the woman had a knack for forcing your attention on anything but her. Which didn’t exactly bode well that she was teaching a class.

Of course, after lunch, they would have a double block of Potions. Harry had a feeling that Mondays were not going to be his favorite this term and had already found his already paltry appetite shrinking for lunch on Mondays if he had to face Snape afterwards.

From there, Harry and Ron would get a free period while Hermione took Ancient Runes and then they would all had Astronomy that night. So, Mondays were basically the worst day for them but at least they would get it over with early in the week; the worst was when Astronomy happened on Friday nights.

And, obviously, they would be paired with Slytherin for the majority of their classes because they got along so well together.

“We better get going,” Hermione announced. She didn’t want to be late and miss out on anything. Ron quickly stuffed the rest of the toast in his mouth, having more of an appetite now that Harry was at least not in denial anymore.

They were one of the first groups to arrive to Transfiguration and sat towards the front on the right side of the aisle.

It didn’t take long for the rest of the seats to fill up. Meanwhile, the trio started to get their books out and laid out the rest of the material that they had gotten used to needing for McGonagall’s classes. One of the good things about getting there early was that Malfoy and his cronies had arrived nearly last and so were forced to sit in the back of the room. This suited Harry just fine and he was able to at least feel some small measure of comfort that they were about as far apart as they could be.

Just then, McGonagall entered and flicked her wand about the room to shut the doors and reveal a clean chalkboard in the front of the room.

“Welcome, students. Now then, as you all know this is an important year for you, for you will take your Ordinary Wizarding Levels this June. The grades that you receive will determine what classes you can continue with for your sixth and seventh years, and so it is of the utmost importance that you apply yourselves. Ultimately, the classes you can continue on in determine what N.E.W.T. exams that you can take -which we will worry about when the time comes - but know that they determine what jobs you can apply for upon leaving Hogwarts.”

Nearly every pair of eyes was focused intently on McGonagall; even the slackers among them knew that this was not the time to start daydreaming. Hermione was furiously scribbling away each and every word that the professor said, lest she miss a single word and fail all of her exams.

“Also, your head of house will be meeting with each of you in the month before the winter holiday to discuss your general interests upon leaving Hogwarts. This will also provide you with valuable feedback on your academic performance leaving you enough time to hopefully correct a weak subject that your career interests demand.”

She looked around the room, her features stern and professional, making sure that everyone was paying attention. Minerva McGonagall regarded all of her students equally, no matter the house, and to her, the most important thing was that they received the same education and opportunities.

“Anyone have any questions before we begin today’s lesson?” Her eyebrow rose ever so slightly.

“Good. Today, we are going to start with a review of the first term’s syllabus. After that, our next lessons will focus on a brief review of past years before starting the new material. I should warn you that the amount of homework will increase this year, so don’t fall behind.”

That statement was enough to make about half of the class moan, but Harry and his friends, at the behest of Hermione, had already been forewarned about the year and were already expecting to put in a solid effort for reasons not entirely related to school.

The only other sound for the rest of the period, besides McGonagall laying out what else they could expect for the year ahead, was the scratching of quills on parchment.

The rush of excitement that had come with the starting of the year was over for most of the fifth year students as they trundled along to their next class, hoping against reason that they wouldn’t be assigned more homework on the first day. Was nothing sacred anymore?

They entered the Defense classroom as a massive blob and had to move relatively quickly to secure seats near each other. Only after they had been seated did they notice the atrocious styling of the classroom in which the colour pink had apparently exploded and covered nearly everything. It hurt the eyes to stare at any one spot for long, and most students were resigned to focusing on their non-pink textbooks, which weren’t that appealing either.

Harry had already read the real book that other years had used and had only read through this one because he had run out of material to read one night when he couldn’t sleep. In fact, he had subsequently found that this book was so singularly mind-numbingly dull that it was the only other thing capable of making him tired, and thus capable of sleep, besides exhaustion.

Along with what he knew the general syllabus of the class to be, he at least had the book that Remus had given him for his birthday. Either way, it looked liked they would be getting nothing out of this class or from this professor, who stood before them as if expecting their praise.

“Hem Hem,” she giggled in a very disturbing way to get their attention.

“Good morning class,” her carefully controlled voice sounded, infused with just a dash of fake sweetness.

An array of out-of-sync mumblings was given in response.

“Tisk, Tisk,” she said, this time with a little more of her distinct condescending tone.

“That won’t do at all, children. Now, when I say, _Good morning_ to you, I expect a response of _Good morning, Professor Umbridge,_ in response. Let’s try again, shall we?”

“Good morning class,” her eyes sparkled at her perceived power of them.

“Good morning, Professor Umbridge,” the class returned without any enthusiasm.

“That’s it!” She smiled widely. Dolores loved telling others what to do and how to do it, no matter how big or small the request was, and she loved it even more when people did what _she_ said.

“I’ll be here for just this year, though I’m sure we will all become very good friends. And who knows, it’s possible I may see some of you at the Ministry after you are done with your schooling. I _am_ the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister, you know, and I could put in a good word for you to the right person in the right department.”

Her smile grew even wider at the thought of them becoming beholden to her for favors.

“But first,” she tittered in a way that disturbed Hermione at her very core because professors and holders of knowledge shouldn’t act this way in her mind.

“We need to pass our O.W.L.s. I see that I am the fifth professor you have had in as many years – you must all be so very far behind. But don’t worry, we are going to follow a Ministry-approved syllabus this year to bring you all up to speed.”

Her toad-like eyes scanned around the classroom and watched them all open their textbooks following the instructions that she had placed on the board with a swish of her wand. Several students had gotten the distinct impression that she actually was a toad and became curious if she ate like one and made the mental note to see how she ate at lunch.

Hermione had read the book as well, but was expecting to be given something more considering the very important tests that they were going to be taking at the end of the year. So, she raised her hand when she saw that no other material was forthcoming.

“Yes, miss …?” Dolores’ perfect façade showed the slightest signs of cracking at someone daring to ask her a question.

“Granger, Hermione Granger,” she began. “I was curious about the syllabus for this course. I have already read the entire book and there is nothing in here about using defensive spells.”

But Umbridge jumped in before Hermione could really get going.

“Using spells? I’m afraid I don’t understand. We are going to be learning theory in this classroom and then you will apply that at the end of the year. If you understand the theory, you should be fine.”

Hermione’s left eye twitched ever so briefly as her brain failed to comprehend the bullshit explanation it had just been given.

She moved to raise her hand again but found that in her momentary, and narrowly avoided aneurysm, that someone else had asked a question.

Dolores Umbridge had expected to come in and provide a solid, if albeit rudimentary, instruction as this wasn’t her strongest subject. Some students would fail, of course, but the blame would be put on them for not working as diligently as she would stress throughout the year. The students that did scrap by an acceptable or higher on their O.W.L.s would be praised and she would focus on herself being instrumental to their success when she went back to the Ministry. She knew the average grade that students tended to achieve on their exams, and besides an anomaly just over a year ago when that half-breed taught, she was sure that her approach would be sufficient to get slightly higher than the average.

“Yes, Mr. …?” she called, the sugar in her voice starting to fade.

“Draco Malfoy,” the blond shot back, somewhat bemused that he wasn’t immediately recognized for the little prince his father had convinced him that he was.

“I was hoping that we would learn the Patronus Charm, on account of the tragedy,” he looked over with mock sympathy at the trio, “that occurred this summer.”

Harry was white-knuckling his desk. That painful and endless hole in his chest got deeper even as the rest of his chest got tighter, as if someone was wringing his insides and stretching them simultaneously.

Hermione wanted to punch the little weasel again for bringing this up, whether it was actually a good suggestion or not.

Dolores was taken aback somewhat by the event she had orchestrated being brought up, but she recovered quickly. She should have seen this coming.

“That was a tragedy,” she lied, incredibly disappointed in the outcome of not silencing Potter.

“But the Patronus Charm is incredibly difficult to teach and would take too much time away from your O.W.L. preparations. Also, I doubt that any of you have the mental fortitude for that spell yet. What happened to Cedric Diggory,” she paused after seeing Harry struggling to keep his face neutral, but the sweat on his brow gave him away.

She was curious about his reaction to Cedric, she hadn’t realized they were such good friends but that the tournament must have brought them together seeing as how they were both Hogwarts Champions. Perhaps she would be able to use this on the little liar.

During the pause, she acted as if she was heartbroken over the event with the Dementors.

She finished, “and one that is not expected to happen ever again. The Ministry is looking into ways to deal with rogue Dementors, so that nothing that happened to _Cedric Diggory-_ ,” she emphasized especially for Harry. She was delighted to see him grimace this time.

“- will ever happen again.”

After that, the students asked a few more questions before finally being silenced and forced to do their assigned readings. Harry had retreated into his mindscape immediately after the second mention of Cedric, for he knew that he could not sit there and listen to that conversation without him reacting in some way. He was still aware of vague voices, as he had gotten better at keeping himself aware of what was going on in, both in his mind and the world around him, but he didn’t have to be constantly reminded of Cedric in here – more so than what he already thought about.

Hermione, and even Ron, had picked up on the slightly abnormal way in which she had said Cedric’s name. Then, they noticed the way her round eyes glanced at Harry. Both knew how unpleasant this must have been on their raven-haired friend and Hermione saw his green eyes glaze over ever so slightly, indicating that he had gone into his mindscape – likely to escape the present conversation. It had been hard for her to see the unmistakable look of pain on his face and not be able to do anything about it.

She shook her head; they should have expected someone to say something about the Dementor attack in this class – and they should have expected Draco to do something, knowing as he did how much they affected Harry. Her mind furiously began to think of situations that could arise in Potions. Ultimately, she concluded that there was too many that could happen without the Dementor event being brought up and she just hoped that they would be able to get through this day intact.

The bell sounded and they made their way to the Great Hall, where any appetite they may have had was overshadowed by thoughts that their next class was in the dungeons. Even Hermione, who usually looked forward to all of her classes, was hesitant about Potions because of the added strain their Defense class had had on Harry. Who knew how much worse it would get under Severus Snape? Hermione did realize that he could be slightly biased towards Harry and had even thought about him missing class to go see Madam Pomfrey for a headache or another ailment, but she knew it would be worse for him in the long run.

Reluctantly, the Golden Trio took the dreary steps to see how much worse the day would become.

They wouldn’t have to wait long.

Severus had already provided assigned seats for the students this time around.

“Where you sit will be your seat for the remainder of the year, as will your partner who will share your table,” he said slowly, pronouncing each syllable as if he were savoring it. His eyes never left Harry as he watched him sit next to Longbottom who was clutching his bag nervously.

“Luckily, for most of you dunderheads, this will be the last year that we will be together, for I only take students with an Outstanding on their O.W.L.s.”

The corners of his mouth made a slight uptick and he was staring directly at Harry.

He continued his brief introduction to the year.

“This year will be hard and the workload will increase drastically, as you no doubt have already found out.”

Even the Slytherins looked slightly worse for wear at the thought of all the work before them.

“But, don’t think that just because you will perform poorly on your exams doesn’t mean that you will perform poorly in my class. I still expect you to try and not be the dunderhead that you are on the inside.”

This time, his gaze settled on Neville, who gulped.

“Now then, here is your assignment for the day, which I will be grading as if it were for your O.W.L. mark.”

The majority of the unhappy faces were from the Gryffindor side of the room, who were all thinking the same thing: how much lower were their grades going to be this year?

“Begin.” Snape instructed and the class began to lite their cauldrons and retrieve the necessary ingredients for what they were brewing today.

“Hey Neville,” Harry said, lacking energy but grateful that he hadn’t been paired with a Slytherin. He wasn’t completely thrilled with how his year had started off but he was too depressed to even care, and found that Snape didn’t bother him as much anymore. He was a bully and Harry had far bigger things to worry about than someone who obviously held a grudge against him.

“Hiya, Harry,” Neville offered weakly, already having dropped some of their ingredients on the floor.

“I’ll start the dicing and you prepare the solution, all right?” he asked, even as he moved towards the cutting board.

To Harry it was not as difficult as he had once found Potions to be. After spending a good majority of the time reading and rereading past material, where he had focused on the properties of the ingredients and the essentials to proper potion making, he found it to be quite enjoyable. There was a subtle rush that came with treating everything properly and reminded him of cooking and how, at least when Petunia wasn’t trying to bludgeon him with a frying pan, it could be peaceful and soothing.

He found that it suited how his mind functioned now, and was rather looking forward to seeing what he could do this year. It was the one positive thing that he had going for him.

Just as Harry was about to instruct Neville to begin adding the powdered moonstone while stirring the slightly acidic starting solution, he had to reach out quickly and forcibly restrain Neville’s hand after he had caught sight of what he had been doing out of the corner of his eye.

“Neville, you can’t add the powdered unicorn horn until the very end, let alone combine it with something that reacts so violently as hellebore syrup. Those two added at the same time could have caused a serious explosion.”

He had made ever effort to keep his voice neutral, but Neville was still staring at him like he was waiting for the hammer to drop.

“Neville, what’s wrong? I’m not going to yell at you?” He asked, removing his hand from Neville’s who then set the ingredients down separately on the table.

Neville was still slightly fazed, but responded to Harry.

“I guess I just always assume that people are going to yell at me.” His eyes dropped down to stare at the floor.

Harry now felt worse for a completely different reason. How had they never noticed Neville’s difficulties with school before?

‘Perhaps because you never took it that seriously either,’ he told himself.

Suddenly, Harry had an idea and tested it out, knowing that they still had plenty of time to complete their assignment.

“Here is the text, read the instructions back to me,” he said both gently and softly so that others in the class didn’t overhear them.

Neville squinted at the lines and read them very slowly, but he still missed several words and had gotten the order of ingredients wrong.

It reminded him of someone in his primary school who had been doing even worse than he had been at the time.

“Neville, I think you may be dyslexic. It causes some people to have difficulty learning but it doesn’t mean that you are not any less intelligent. I knew a kid who was dyslexic before I came here, and he had the same troubles that you seem to have. I don’t know why I never noticed it until know,” he put forth, trying to gage Neville’s response to his suggestion.

“Is there anything that I can do? What happened to that kid?” Neville asked, never having considered before that he was the same as the others. He had always assumed that there was something wrong with him.

“Of course! We just have to tailor the learning to you. I’m sure Hermione – or her parents could find out more – we can ask her after class.”

A rare smile appeared on his face and his features were more relaxed than Harry had ever seen them.

“So, back to the potion, only this time I will read the instructions to you and tell you what I know about them,” Harry said, but he managed to feel just a small amount of happiness before his depression consumed it at how happy Neville had looked. It had briefly given him something to think about that was positive and didn’t involve reading.

“All right, Harry” Neville said, as they began making the Draught of Peace.

 

* * *

 

Unseen in all of this was Severus Snape lowering his wand; he had been ready to cast a protective bubble limiting the severe explosion he knew would be imminent with Longbottom attempting anything to do with a cauldron. He had then been ready to jump in and berate the boy for his stupidity when Potter had started talking and done a reasonable job in handling the situation. He sat back in his chair and watched them make a perfect potion, and he started to look at Harry Potter very differently.

**Let me know what you think! The part with Neville just happened as I typed – but it makes so much sense!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, thank you for reading and reviewing and for all of the PMs. Second, I’m glad you agree with Neville! In response to Umbridge, I couldn’t have her acting like she did last time because the Minister is not worried about a Dumbledore takeover – but I wanted to keep her aggravating essence the same so I had to come up with something that highlights what a horrible person she is (but as a character is so much fun).   
>  Harry will have some low points going forward, and some small high ones as well. I think that Charlie will be a big part of his recovery (but don’t worry – I won’t have them immediately get into it). I really want to be as honest with these feelings/situations as I can be.

**Standard disclaimer about not owning anything; I am so thankful for JKR and all that she did for us. She gave us one of the greatest gifts, and so many people have taken to this site and played brilliantly with her creation. We should have a JKR day and it should be a global holiday!**

 

The first few weeks of classes had gone by faster than Harry had expected them to. In some ways it was good because the increased workload gave him something else to focus on besides the pain, but in other ways, his feelings of loneliness and depression would build up until he broke down into tears.

Fortunately, these episodes tended to happen at night and Harry found himself retreating into the chamber. Considering that he had the map and the cloak, he wasn’t worried about getting caught after curfew; especially with the amount of stealth charms that he had been actively learning.

He still hadn’t opened up about what he was dealing with though, but Sirius and his friends were not going to push him. Sirius had even arranged for him and Harry to have weekly dinners in his quarters, which had given them the opportunity to be close even though they hardly spoke about anything of real importance. Still, it made Sirius feel better than at least Harry was engaging him in small talk, which was more than he could say about their interactions in the later part of the summer.

Really, the only thing that bothered him about school was Defense Against the Dark Arts. Dolores Umbridge was a worse teacher than even Professor Binns, who most likely didn’t even realize that he had died and just went on and on about Goblin rebellions ad nauseam. The trio had resorted to alternating between the book they were supposed to be using and Remus’ helpful hints book, as Hermione had playfully noted one afternoon.

If anything, the school year was going quite well from an academic standpoint. Neville and him were working through his learning difficulties and they had been consistently been receiving Acceptable on their assignments – which Hermione thought was criminal – but Harry reminded her that Snape could be far worse. In fact, Snape had been taken aback by Harry’s new approach to school and, though he would never admit this, was starting to look forward to Harry’s essays. They reminded him of the way that Lilly used to speak about the subject, and the more time that passed, the more he unconsciously disassociated Harry and James Potter from each other.

One day, about three weeks into the school year, Harry cemented his new, bookish behavior when he resigned from the quidditch team.

“What do you mean you aren’t playing this year?” Angelina Johnson asked, dumbfounded that one of the best players in the school was not playing this year.

As the new captain, it seriously threw a wrench into her plans for winning the Quidditch Cup this year.

“I just don’t have it in me this year,” Harry said honestly. He looked to Hermione and then to Ron. He didn’t really need to explain it to them, and even with how much Ron was obsessed with the game – he completely understood why Harry didn’t want to play.

Aside from it reminded him too much about Cedric and what they had been doing right before he had gotten kissed, he didn’t see how he could devote as much time to his studies as he would have liked if he kept playing.

“It’s my O.W.L. year and all and I really want to do well on my exams,” he supplied.

Katie Bell, who had walked over to Harry with Angelina, had been more understanding since she had just gone through those exams last year.

“I understand, Harry, but there really is no one quite like you on a broom. There’s always a spot if you reconsider.” She looked pointedly at Angelina, trying to get across the very important point of ‘catching more flies with honey than you do with vinegar.’

She took the hint.

“The spot is always yours if you want it,” Angelina eventually said, not quite masking her disappointment but also not pushing as much as she wanted to.

“You all right, Harry?” Hermione asked after they turned and walked away.

“Eh,” Harry shrugged. “I really don’t see how I would have the time this year… and it’s too soon for me considering Cedric and…” He didn’t know how to finish and just went back to the assignment he was working on over lunch.

“I get it mate,” Ron said, feeling it important to let Harry know that he had his support in this mater. But inside he was worried about his friend, and wondered if there was something that he could do – remembering back to his younger years at the Burrow – that he hadn’t tried before. He excused himself and went to the owlery, where he decided to write his older brother a letter.

 

* * *

 

The next night was one of the worst episodes of depression that Harry had had yet. He felt like he couldn’t breathe and that the tightness in his chest was slowly suffocating him. He quickly, and as quietly as he could so as not to wake his dorm mates, excited the room and made his way yet again to the chamber.

In the back of his mind he was aware that Ron had to have known about his problems sleeping, but so far hadn’t said anything to him. He really did appreciate the support that they gave him and he didn’t find it as difficult to be around them as he did other people.

He had gotten really good at sneaking past Moaning Myrtle and the few times he had been caught by her, he struck a deal wherein he would stop and chat for a few minutes if he were allowed to come and go in complete secrecy.

Harry didn’t have to think anymore about the route or the odd, razor-sharp rocks in his path; he had inadvertently committed the journey to memory with how many times he had been down here since the beginning of the school year. Though, he couldn’t explain why he felt better down here, considering it was where he had almost died, but he just knew that he did.

Perhaps it was the fact that no one would be able to get to him down here or that the slain Basilisk felt more in line with how he was feeling on the inside; it wasn’t exactly the most welcoming place with a gigantic murderous creature lying in the middle of it.

But it was the only place where Harry could process his feelings about Cedric. Just thinking about him was enough to send into a deep, melancholy state, and he couldn’t chance it with others around.

“Cedric…” he sighed aloud, hearing the echo reverberate off the cavern walls.

The ring that Cedric had given him had remained on his finger and the heart was still pointed inwards, signaling that he belonged to someone. He didn’t have it in him to remove it; he wasn’t ready.

He was still at a loss for how he had ended up going from one extreme to another.

“The cemetery – and then meeting my mum…” he exhaled sharply as he moved around the chamber, exploring each little crevice and antechamber.

“How I wish I could have known you guys,” he said quietly, thinking of his parents. He found it easier to say what was on his mind by speaking it aloud.

“And then you came along, Cedric. Everything happened so fast, but we were getting to know one another and then… you went away.”

He kicked at a rock and watched it sail across the empty space, skipping a few times before coming to a rest.

“I thought I was happy – I was happy – and I thought things were finally getting better. But it wasn’t just because of you.” He knew that there was more to his improved state than finally feeling like he belonged in his own body.

He reached up and put his hand over his barely visible scar.

“What were you?” he questioned, thinking back to his mother’s hint that how he had gotten to see her had been important. He didn’t know how it had happened, but he had suspected that something about his scar had had something to do with it. After that experience was when he really noticed how much easier thinking and everything else had been; it was when he first noticed that he had an attraction to guys and had been fortunate enough to act on it…

“Why is my life so confusing!” The shout echoed for a while.

He knew that adolescence was a difficult time for most kids his age, but he highly doubted that what he had been through was anywhere near normal.

He circled back in front of Salazar, alternating his focus between the snake and one of the founders.

“It doesn’t make any sense. Why did Voldemort come after my parents, and then the events with the stone and then this place.”

He almost couldn’t even process everything that he had done in his life – even for a wizard it was abnormal.

“But what I really don’t understand – what really bothers me – is why Voldemort went through all of that trouble to get me with the Tournament.”

He just didn’t get it, and something in his mind, really deep down, was starting to think that all of these events were linked together. It couldn’t be a coincidence.

He had somewhat learned the beginning stages of Occlumency, and had thoroughly organized his mind. He felt confident that he could move onto the next step and decided to ask Sirius about it at their next meal. The sooner he could master this then the sooner that Dumbledore would tell him about his scar and why Voldemort had come after him.

But, whatever nagging thing it was that he couldn’t quite put together, he was sick of it. Harry Potter was sick and tired of dealing with this shit. It was just one thing after the other. He was angry now - but he was still depressed, which only made everything feel worse.

But that little spark of fight that would never leave him, no matter how much he had been up against wouldn’t let him give up.

“Next time,” he resolved to himself and stared at Salazar, “I will be ready to face him.” It seemed the only, obvious option that he had in front of him. Whatever uncertainties he had in his life about moving on from Cedric – and whatever feelings that had developed or had been developing or why it had happened at all – he knew at least one thing that would always weigh over his head: Voldemort. And now that he was back in a body and pissed off, Harry just knew that they would meet again.

“I’m not going to let him win again, whatever his deal with me is. I promise you that _Salazar Slytherin_ …,” he had started to say, intent on making a point of resolve in front of Tom Riddle’s ancestor. However, the moment he had said ‘Slytherin,’ inadvertently in parseltongue no less, the stone mouth opened again.

He tensed quickly, his wand held out in front of him and he was using all of his senses trying to understand the situation in case he needed to react quickly.

A few seconds passed and nothing happened, and his mind went back to the first time he had been here and had heard Tom Riddle call forth his Basilisk.

“ _Speak to me Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwart’s four_.”

“Of course,” he breathed in relief. “That was how the Basilisk could come out, just like how the entrance was opened or that stairs were called!”

Harry stood there, curious at the opening. He wondered what lay within it; surely there was not another Basilisk? The more he thought about it, the more intrigued he became about the whole thing. He made up his mind rather quickly, though he did admit this whole thing was a bit rash.

            “ _Lumos_ ,” he chanted, powering his wand to light the darkness.

            Then, he ventured through the mouth and down what he imagined based on the incline was a short tunnel that led to a big, circular chamber made of the same stone material. There was snakeskin everywhere.

            But there was also a door.

            He wondered if Tom Riddle had ever ventured inside here, but then thought about the fact that a Basilisk would have been in here as well. He wasn’t so sure that he would have thought to explore a Basilisk’s nest unless it wasn’t there – and, in Voldemort’s case, he seemed too intent on using this thing to kill rather than to explore it.

            “He had already found the chamber and the monster. But, perhaps the Basilisk had told him that there was something inside. I guess there is really only one way to see if he knew about the door.”

            He said even as he approached it and slowly reached for the handle. It wasn’t locked, but the hinges were rusty and it creaked open.

            Inside the doorway, Harry saw a small room with an even smaller desk. There were no cobwebs though.

           “Of course! Spiders flee before it!” He really liked how much easier it was for him to not only recall things, but to be able to make the connections between things quicker.

            There was a small bookshelf in the corner; however, it was empty and there was a thick coating of dust on it. Harry peered around the desk and saw that there was nothing else of note.

            He was still debating whether Voldemort had even been here or not. The place looked like it hadn’t been used in years; he just didn’t know how many years it had been since it had been used.

            He spent a little more time exploring the Basilisk’s lair – when he paused suddenly. He had been putting in a lot of time studying now and felt that he had a pretty good handle on potions and the various magical ingredients and he couldn’t believe why he didn’t think of this sooner.

            Here he was, one of the only people in the world with access to a Basilisk – a slain one no less, and he had never considered the veritable fortune that was around him. He would have to think of a way to use this and he made a mental note to look up all of the different ingredients that he could use.

            “I bet Snape would kill to get down here.” He snorted.

            ‘Wait,’ he though. ‘Why didn’t Snape know about this? Surely, Dumbledore had informed them about what was down here – or was it because he couldn’t access this place so he just didn’t bother?’

            It gave Harry something else to think about; but, in general, he felt a little better about life before he had ventured down here.

            At any rate, he was finally starting to feel like he would be able to sleep and he headed back to Gryffindor tower. Perhaps he would bring Hermione and Ron down here next time; it seemed like just the place where they would be able to practice some defense since Umbridge seemed intent on not teaching them anything.

            All during his walk to the portrait of the Fat Lady he wondered just what her angle was in teaching that way. Harry had been blatantly ignoring her in class and simply retreated into his mind to avoid her incessant chatter about Dementors and other creatures and how her book’s theoretical offerings would protect them.

            Harry thought Quirrell was a better teacher.

 

* * *

 

            The next few days were business as usual. The only mild nuisance was that Draco was trying to get under his skin about not playing quidditch this year.

            “You scared, Potter? Was it the Dementors?” he kept going on any chance he got. Luckily, Harry spent the majority of his time now half inside his mind. And really, once he sobered up to the fact that he had faced Voldemort on several occasions and survived, his once legendary rivalry with the pompous twit really was quite laughable. Draco was all bark and no bite – and it made it easy to ignore him.

            But everything changed at Lunch. It was a Friday and the only classes that were left for him were Charms and Herbology.

            It had been an uneventful week considering how it had began with his foray into the Chamber over the weekend when he tended to have the most trouble with falling asleep. During the week was always a little easier for him because all of the work from classes kept him busy and so his mind was always thinking about something.

            Anyways, he was surprised to discover that he had mail. The only person who had really ever written to him had been Sirius when he was on the run and they had to use ‘Snuffles’ as a cover. Who could be writing to him now?

            Harry opened the letter and immediately looked at the bottom of it to see whom it had come from.

            “Ron, why is your brother writing to me?” Harry absentmindedly said out loud.

            The red head’s cheeks grew slightly purple as he stammered his response.

            “Well, I wrote to Charlie to see if he would be willing to talk to you. I don’t mean to over step my bounds into your business, Harry; but as your best mate and all, I am worried about you.”

It was said quietly, though not many people were around as they had begun to sit at the end of table to have a little more room, and privacy, to themselves. Also, they needed the extra room as Hermione always had several texts sprawled out before her and Harry wasn’t any better. Heck, Ron even opened the occasional text - that really just demonstrated how serious they were all taking things.

“But why Charlie?” Harry asked, not at all angry with what Ron had done. He was honestly surprised his friends hadn’t done something like this sooner.

“Well, he has been through some things as well; things that I didn’t fully understand when I was younger. I thought it would give you someone to talk to if you wanted that. We know,” he turned to Hermione, “that you should talk to someone, and even if it isn’t us or Sirius, we still think you would benefit from it.”

Ron was expecting Harry to be upset with him, but he had known it was a possibility when he had done it. It may have been a little uncomfortable for Harry to face this unexpectedly, but he couldn’t fault his friends. He knew that they truly cared for him and maybe it was time he talked to someone else about this, someone that he wouldn’t have to see that often but yet wasn’t a total stranger.

“I’ll read it after class, Ron. Thanks,” Harry said, folding the letter and putting it in his pocket. He couldn’t start thinking about all of that now, not with just two more classes till the weekend. He would read it later that night.

Ron was a little surprised with how well Harry had seemed to take the intrusion into his personal life – but Hermione had thought it had been a terrific sign that Harry was slowly getting back to normal and had told Ron quietly about her thought as they made their way to Charms.

Friday afternoons always went by quickly because of how much they enjoyed the subjects and given that the weekend was right around the corner.

Harry kept true to his word and waited until he was in bed that night before he unfolded the piece of parchment and read it.

 

_Harry,_

_I don’t mean to intrude into your life or pry. It is just that your friends are worried about you, and I would have to agree with them. You see, Ron wrote to me and asked if I would share with you what happened to me. He knows that there was a period of time when I was very depressed and struggling to make it through the day. I think he got it more from my brothers and mum, who you have met, so you know how flustered she can get at times when something is out of her control._

_But I don’t think Ron ever knew the entire story – he just knew that something had happened and that it took me a few years to become ‘normal’ again. Though, between you and me, sometimes there isn’t a way back to normal because some things can never be the same after a tragedy._

_Anyways, I get it: that sense of overwhelming loss and numbness that happens when you lose someone you love – or are close to. I knew about you and Cedric from the moment I saw you two. The stolen glances that you would share when you thought no one was looking. I will never forget that night because what happened to you reminded me so much of what happened to me. I know there are no words that I could ever say or that anyone could ever say to make things better for you. It is going to be hard for a while, and life is going to feel pretty dreary and dark and sometimes it is going to be hard to even get out of bed._

_I debated whether or not to write to you after that incident, to share with you my story in the hopes that it would help. But it was too soon and I knew from experience that it wouldn’t help then. But when Ron wrote to me and told me what had happened afterwards and how you finally came to say it out loud, to acknowledge it, I thought it might be worth giving it a try._

_Things will get better, and I know that many people have said this to you – and they are right – but it doesn’t mean the same coming from someone who doesn’t know, who hasn’t experienced it. It will take time and it may take you a while to realize you have made any progress towards healing at all, but you will get there._

_And I KNOW this Harry because I went through it._

_You see, before we met briefly during your first year at Hogwarts (when Hagrid had that Dragon), I fell in love. He was another Dragon Tamer at the reserve and it was magical; I had never felt so alive. One day, everything changed. A nesting mother got aggravated at another Dragon for wondering so close – and this Dragon was younger and had been separated from its family and likely looking to the other Dragon for support – and attacked it. It took everyone to separate the two before we lost the younger one. Geoff, that was his name, died trying to restrain the nesting mother. We had only been dating for a few months, and suddenly, it was over._

_I was a wreck for a long time. I couldn’t sleep. I could barely eat anything. I was out in Romania and I had no one to talk to; Dragon Tamers are very solitary people at times and some aren’t big on talking. Even if they were, what would I have said to them? It was hard; I won’t lie to you. Those were some of the worst days I have ever experienced and they seemed to go on forever. But they won’t, Harry. What happened was horrible; there is no way around that. But don’t hold it all in because that will only make it worse. Find someone to talk to about this. If you take only one thing away from this, please, let it be that. Don’t suffer on the inside and make what was already horrible, worse. It doesn’t have to be Ron or Hermione or anyone you know, as long as you feel comfortable talking to them._

_It will make a huge difference. I wish someone had told me that, though, I doubt I would have listened. Don’t come to remember Cedric and always associate him with tragedy because then you aren’t remembering all of the other times that you had._

_I hope I haven’t overstepped, and if I did, well, I am not sorry. But I do hope this helps you in some way._

_You are not alone, Harry. Just remember that you have people that love you and care for you. Lean on them now._

_Charlie Weasley._

 

**Thoughts?**


	12. Chapter 12

**Standard disclaimer about not owning anything; I am so thankful for JKR and all that she did for us. She gave us one of the greatest gifts, and so many people have taken to this site and played brilliantly with her creation. We should have a JKR day and it should be a global holiday!**

 

The wizard formerly known as Tom Riddle was never one to go out of his way unless it was necessary. If there were a shorter path that he could take to achieve his goals then he would take it – as long as the results were the same in the end. The only instance in which he would take a more circuitous route was if he found it necessary to take certain precautions or maintain his public image – whatever _that_ was at the time.

Like when he had had command of the Basilisk at Hogwarts. He didn’t have all of the skills yet to go against Dumbledore openly and so he had to do all of his plotting clandestinely at that time. The future Dark Lord wasn’t about to jeopardize his standing as a model student by rampaging through the halls of Hogwarts with his servant in tow, and it was very hard to leave her behind after he graduated. But he would go back, in time, and complete the noble work of Salazar Slytherin in removing the mudbloods from the castle. From there he would move to wipe them from Britain.

But, even in the present day, he saw no reason to give the Ministry a reason to make his return known to the general public.

Anyways, even if everyone was aware that he was back – it wasn’t like he would have sauntered into the Department of Mysteries during a workday to retrieve the Prophecy. For one thing, he didn’t want Dumbledore aware of what he was doing, and preferred to keep that old goat guessing about his movements as much as possible. He also didn’t want a repeat of Bertha Jorkins and have a missing Ministry worker that could provide _anyone_ hints at what he was up to this time.

So, here he was at the Department of Mysteries at an hour when the place was deserted. He had been smart and had watched the comings and goings of some of the employees – rather, he had set that mundane task to Bella and Barty - so that he knew the daily schedules of the one he would be impersonating or the various people that said man was bound to run into.

The middle of the night was ideal because Xander, the Unspeakable to be impersonated, was a solitary individual and preferred to do most of his work outside of normal hours. Thus, he would have to interact with fewer people – which was quintessential when dealing with these odd, research types that would be more apt to notice if something was amiss. These perceptive individuals within the Department of Mysteries, no doubt having been Ravenclaw in their youth, where highly used to order and routine and were more likely to notice the multitude of quirks that came with impersonating someone. You couldn’t get all of their idiosyncrasies right.

It was also one of the few times in which the Dark Lord wasn’t planning on killing anyone.

He had simply detained Xander and would wipe his mind, and body, of any trace that came from Bellatrix Lestrange chaperoning the man’s evening while he was busy at the Ministry. This way, no one would suspect that he had been in the Hall of Prophecy because Xander would return the next night and no one would ever suspect that anything had been amiss. And just in case the man was disoriented from having his memories removed – well, the Dark Lord would implant fake memories of something similar to a twenty-four hour stomach flu. In all honesty, he was being _kind_ to the man out of a desire to keep under the radar this early in his second attempt for domination.

At any rate, the work that he assigned Bella and Barty was more to give them something to do, especially since it would help to rehabilitate Bellatrix after more than a decade in Azkaban. It wasn’t out of compassion for her well-being that he did so, but he had plans for the future and needed to know that his top lieutenants could handle what he would ask of them.

And it turned out that much of the recognizance had been for naught, because he reached his destination far quicker than he had expected to and hadn’t run into anyone. Though, it had taken quite a bit of self-restraint for him not to explore the many trinkets strewn about the place.

There were all sorts of novel and unusual magical devices that just called to his curious mind – but he chose to focus on his mission. He was so close to learning the Prophecy that had eluded him for so long.

However, some things were easier for him to bypass than others. For instance, the Dark Lord had learned in his youth the dangers of messing with time and didn’t even dare pick up a Time Turner. It was one of the few things that he considered, and begrudgingly acknowledged, to be beyond his control. Just thinking about that incident produced a rare shiver that ran through his body: under no circumstances should there ever be two of him running around.

He entered the Hall of Prophecy and made his way towards the orb that had consumed his thoughts ever since he had heard about its existence.

So many questions flurried through his mind as he crept down the row and first saw the small and perfectly blue orb.

‘Why did I hear only those three lines? Was Severus honest with me?’ were just the beginning of his thoughts.

He was certain that Snape had not lied; he, being the most accomplished Legilimens aside from that old goat, had seen the truth of it in his mind. The man had no other knowledge to speak of and had believed those lines to be truth. He wouldn’t have chanced action regarding something so delicate – so integral – without thoroughly examining the evidence.

He still did not understand what had happened that night and why the curse had rebounded on him.

‘Am I about to learn what really happened?’ he thought in a brief moment of hope. But he didn’t trust in hope; he hadn’t achieved immortality with such a fickle thing as hope. The Dark Lord was a genius and exceptional with all forms of magic and made his own path in life. And yet, there was this infuriating itch in the back of his mind that just had to know what it said.

He didn’t believe in prophecies and he liked to think that he made his own destiny and controlled his own fate. But his weakness, his one, _real_ weakness, would always be the thought that he wasn’t the absolute best.

And it drove him mad. He couldn’t stand that a prophecy had been made about him and someone else, no matter that he thought divination was a bunch of bollocks.

So against the best logic that he knew, deep down, was only leading to a potential fulfillment by taking stock in what it said, he reached for the orb.

Of course, he had been smart and had already checked for wards that may have sounded intrusion or recorded his presence and had found none.

His long and thin fingers gingerly enveloped the small glass sphere and slowly brought it before him. He stopped breathing for a moment, as the orb brought a rare – and unwanted – memory from his youth. Those damned snow globes had once been very popular in his orphanage, and he had always wanted one and would often stare into the ones that he stole. In those moments, he had wished that his life could have been different.

But that was before he found out he was a wizard.

His memories were interrupted by the rising, shadowy figure of a woman, too faint to make out any details as to who she was.

Suddenly, a silvery mist erupted from the Prophecy - _his_ Prophecy - and a voice, both ominous and captivating, pierced through the silence of the vast hall that he was in.

 

" _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies...._ "

 

The figure retreated and the orb became silent once more.

He stood there, numb, and unable to move. Eventually, he had enough awareness to place the Prophecy back where he had found it.

He didn’t know how to feel, and he wasn’t sure that he had been expecting to hear _that_. It made him worry. It gave him so much more to think about.

‘Mark him as my equal?’ he thought disgustedly.

‘What does that even mean!’ His red eyes were crimson at the thought that anyone was _his_ equal.

“The scar…” he whispered, suddenly making a terrible connection in his mind.

‘I was planning on making a horcrux that night…’ his breathing stopped for a moment as he took it all in.

‘That was how he survived in the graveyard that night; I could have sworn that he had been hit with the Killing Curse again.’

It helped to explain that unusual connection he had felt with the boy when he had partially possessed Quirrell; how he could almost _feel_ the boy’s presence.

His stomach tightened and he had to swallow down the bile that rose in his throat. ‘That scar contained my horcrux!’ He was livid.

A part of his soul had now been destroyed.

He could only hope that Dumbledore wasn’t aware of this and that he would assume the boy’s second instance of surviving the killing curse had something to do with Potter and not with him.

But that led him to think about why the boy had survived the curse on that Halloween all those years ago.

“What kind of power could the boy have?” He said to himself. Surely, this would help Dumbledore believe that Potter had something inside of him that caused him to survive and would prevent him from thinking I made a horcrux that lodged inside of him.

‘Still though, how did he survive that night? No one possesses that kind of power!’ He was truly stumped – but his only recourse was hoping that Dumbledore would have been stumped as well.

The Dark Lord was getting nowhere with these thoughts and focused on the most important part of the Prophecy.

‘So, in the end, it will either be me or him?’ He didn’t know how he felt about that because he didn’t see them as equal opponents. And the small voice, deep, deep down inside of him knew that one often met their fate on the road they took to avoid it.

But he disregarded _that_ silly notion. In his mind, the boy would seek revenge for what he had done to him. Besides, the Dark Lord had plans, goals in his life that demanded that he rule all of wizarding Britain. He wasn’t going to change his plans, his life, just because there existed some prophecy.

So he would have to take extra precaution in certain things; no matter, he could do that.

‘Just because it says that he could defeat me doesn’t mean that he will defeat me,’ he thought, as a feral smile settled onto his face.

‘I am still Lord Voldemort and I still have my horcruxes and I will win in the end.’

His resolve had hardened him even more and he headed out into the night to make sure that what protections he had made where still there.

 

**Much, much happier with that! I know it is shorter but I didn’t like combining it with the next chapter. Thoughts?**


	13. Chapter 13

**Standard disclaimer about not owning anything; I am so thankful for JKR and all that she did for us. She gave us one of the greatest gifts, and so many people have taken to this site and played brilliantly with her creation. We should have a JKR day and it should be a global holiday!**

 

 

* * *

 

Dolores Umbridge was tickled pink. She sat there pouring more sugar into her tea and delighted at the Saturday morning edition of the Daily Prophet in front of her. She looked down from the head table at those students present this early in the morning, anticipating their reverence at her new and more prestigious position as High Inquisitor. But there were not that many students present, and what students that were there were not even glancing her way.

The only students that seemed interested in the article at all were Potter and his stupid friends. Her beady little eyes narrowed in on them as they chatted amongst themselves with the paper out in front of them.

Oh, how she loathed the boy. He had been ignoring her efforts to get a reaction out of him in class – to show him for the attention-grabbing boy that she _knew_ him to be. Several weeks had already passed and she found that she would need a new angle if she were going to break him.

It had taken her some time to find a suitable course of action, which would also help her continued rise within the Ministry on her way to becoming Minister one day. In the end, she had simply been unable to refrain from patting herself on the back at any and every opportunity for the genius plan that she had come up with; she would be able to achieve all of her goals with a single action.

And it was all written there for everyone to see: Educational Decree Number Twenty-three.

Oh, how simple it was. No longer satisfied with how her class was going and the dismal test results that had come back so far. Which, she was simply unable to see herself as the cause – it had to be the students and how lazy they were and not that she was such a horrible teacher. It couldn’t be because she was incapable or incompetent – or didn’t even know the material herself.

She had convinced the Minister to give her more power to address the falling standards at Hogwarts. And he did; he ate it right out of her hand. She was now the Hogwarts High Inquisitor – and if Cornelius had been led to believe that she was simply making sure the students were properly educated in light of Voldemort returning, well, she wasn’t an idiot. Dolores wasn’t going to turn down something that was so easy to exploit if it furthered her own interests just because she believed it was nonsense that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was back.

Now, she would have the authority the address the other classes and make sure that their subjects looked just as bad, if not worse, than hers. She would make herself look good and she simply didn’t care if it came at someone else’s expense.

A cruel smirk settled onto her face at the thought of what she was going to do.

And this way, she was sure to expose Potter for the liar that he truly was. He may be able to keep it together in her class but she would expose him eventually. She could not allow him to keep telling lies.

 

* * *

 

“Would you look at this,” Hermione whispered as soon as the morning edition of the Daily Prophet came.

“Oh, great!” sighed Ron as he read through the article. “Dumbridge has even more power here.”

Harry looked up from his simple porridge, curious at what had his friends riled up this early in the morning. It had been getting easier for him to interact with his friends in the weeks following Charlie’s letter and his willingness to explore more of his painful memories that centered on Cedric as a result.

A brief smile came to Harry’s lips as Ron continued to mumble ‘stupid Dumbridge’ over and over again as he reread the article a second time to make sure he hadn’t missed anything.

Harry had found the name to be hilarious and he couldn’t call her anything else since Ron had uttered it one day. It really did encompass everything about her.

“That woman is a horrible excuse for a teacher,” Hermione said flippantly. She had no respect for anyone that didn’t take the role of helping others to learn seriously.

“She can’t even teach our class right, how is she going to -.”

Hermione reached for the paper to quote the specific line from the article.

“- Oh, here it is: she is going to ‘make sure the syllabus is up-to-date and inline with current Ministry Standards that focus on producing the best witches and wizards’…”

She closed her eyes and then shook her head at the thought.

They were not going to learn anything under that hag and Hermione was wondering what her aim was in inspecting the other teachers. Especially during O.W.L. year; it was a very good thing that they had been on top of things and doing a lot of studying and revising on their own.

But some things were more important than education.

“Doesn’t the Ministry know that _He_ is back?” she whispered after she looked around to make sure there were no students around them.

Ron shrugged. “My dad told me that they were operating under that assumption. His office was asked to be on the lookout for cursed objects that may start targeting muggles like in the last war.”

Hermione looked uneasy at the thought that anything could get to her parents but she shook it off.

“I’m just glad they had Pettigrew’s testimony. I think that without it the Minister may not have been ready to believe that Voldemort was back. At least, that is what my dad says.”

Harry looked thoughtful for a moment and he caught site of Sirius.

“Anyways, Sirius has been telling me about everything the DMLE is doing and it sounds like Amelia is on top of this. He said she is out for blood after what happened to her brother the last time and doesn’t want that to happen to anyone else’s family.”

Temporarily satisfied that at least other departments within the Ministry were on top of this, Hermione’s thoughts drifted back to Dumbridge; they were no closer to understanding that ridiculous excuse for a professor.

“And she really has it out for you, Harry. I swear, sometimes it seems like she is trying to get a reaction out of you in class. She is always mentioning Dementors and the way that she looks at you – how do you stand it?”

Hermione had a fierce expression at the thought that someone seemed to be trying to cause her friend further pain.

“Occlumency, Hermione. I ignore her as much as I can and stay inside my mind.”

“You seem to be getting quite good at that.” Her irritable expression softened as she spoke.

“It helps to deal with everything. Well, that’s not true. I think in the beginning – you know when Cedric…” he said quietly before recovering.

“When _that_ happened, I think it was easier to use it to ignore certain things, but now I find it helps going over things. I am dealing with this in my own way – but I’m not running from it anymore.”

He hadn’t expected to get into this now, but he had planned on saying a few things to his friends who had been by his side through all of this. However, the Great Hall wasn’t the place for this.

“How about we continue this discussion elsewhere, the chamber perhaps?”

Hermione made an ‘I’m not sure face.’

“Oh, come on, Hermione. You agreed to it last night…”

“Fine,” she groaned. “But we better do this now. Ron and I both have prefect duties tonight.”

Hermione had been understandably hesitant to go into the chamber, but last night Harry had made a convincing argument that it was the perfect place for them to learn some of the practical applications of Defense without anyone interfering.

They gathered their belongings and made their way out of the Great Hall and headed towards the second floor lavatory.

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” Hermione sounded as they made their way past Moaning Myrtle’s stall. They had just finished talking with her and had inadvertently said something that had set off another round of wailing.

“I really think it is the best place for us to practice. It’s not like anyone else can disturb us while we are in here – or even know about it for that matter.” Harry reiterated his winning argument from last night.

Ron had been more easily won over to Harry’s idea, despite his history with the chamber, because it really did sound like the best place to get in some extra training. Though, he still couldn’t believe that they were actually about to go in there again, but he would be damned if he didn’t get his best grades now that he was applying himself.

“I can’t believe we are headed back in; so much has changed since the last time.” Ron said thoughtfully; he was contemplating how much he had grown since he and Harry had gone in to rescue Ginny when they thought she was dead. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

“And you will be able to see the chamber this time,” Harry added. “Just remember, the both of you, that the Basilisk is dead,” he emphasized.

They had already been through this, but still, it was an impressive sight to see – even more so considering that it looked like it was sleeping since it was preserved so well.

Hermione didn’t particularly like snakes all that much and would deal with that when she had to. However, she couldn’t help the idea that Harry had been visiting the chamber all year without them.

“You shouldn’t have been coming down here all by yourself, Harry. What if something had happened?” Hermione started on him again.

Harry stopped walking towards the sink and so did Ron and Hermione. He turned around slowly to face them, needing them to be okay with his use of this place.

“I think I had to.” His voice was soft, but stronger than it had been in a while and it gave them more reason to listen to him.

“I feel something down here, something that I can’t explain; it’s comforting to me and I feel better down here than I do almost anywhere else in the castle.” He raised his shoulders as if to say ‘that’s all’, indicating that that was the best explanation that he could come up with.

And it was because it was comforting to Harry and that he was opening up to them more and more that Hermione held her tongue and let it go. She couldn’t deny that he was slowly making progress over the past weeks and Hermione didn’t have it in her to continue to chastise him for this. Also, she didn’t want to discourage him from sharing things with them in the future if she was just going to nitpick.

“I’m glad for that, Harry,” she said, choosing to focus on the positive.

“You have no idea, mate.” Ron locked eyes with him, expressing his own relief that Harry had found something to help ease his pain.

A small smile flashed on Harry’s face in return and then he turned and opened the entrance and led his friends down the stairs, which he had also called for in parseltongue. The light from the tip of his wand enabled them to see the steps ahead of them, though for Harry it was becoming second nature and he was pretty sure that by now he could find his way in the dark.

“I wish we had these the first time,” Ron said wistfully, making sure to plant his feet firmly before taking the next step.

“Had what?” Hermione asked, following close behind him. Her pulse had quickened at being in an unknown part of the castle that was simply alluded to as legend in _Hogwarts: A History_.

“Stairs.”

“So you just jumped?” Hermione reasoned quickly, peering over the edge of the step she was on and unable to see the bottom.

“It turned out to be more like a really big slide,” Harry quipped.

“Heh,” she remarked. “I really don’t fancy heights all that much.” Hermione looked squeamish and Ron quietly moved his hand behind him and gently slipped his fingers into hers to offer support and guide her the rest of the way down.

Hermione was thankful that the dim light shielded the spreading blush on her face. What was happening between Ron and her had been a recent development and they were consciously trying to keep it between them. Both of them had whole-heartedly agreed not to flaunt it before Harry – and parted from each other when they reached the bottom.

The trio made it to the bronze snake seal without incident, though Hermione had been a bit put off by the sight and then size of the shed snakeskin they had encountered along the way.

Their first steps into the expansive chamber were something that neither Ron nor Hermione would ever forget. They marveled at the sheer size of the room they had entered that had towering statues of snakeheads with their fangs bared, and they were separated into two rows that adorned a paved pathway that led through the large room.

Hermione’s eyes traveled downward from the ceiling and towards the end of the room where both the Basilisk and the stone head of Salazar Slytherin laid.

“Ahhhh,” Hermione jumped when her eyes fell on the snake. It was far bigger than she had ever expected.

Ron’s mouth hung open but no sound came from it.

Hermione moved forward, her curiosity helping her along in this situation. “That… that is what you fought as a second year?” Her expression was full of disbelief.

Ron blinked and the brief stupor that he had been in from the shock at seeing what had nearly gotten Ginny if it hadn’t been for Harry ended. “Ginny,” he breathed. He moved towards Harry and hugged him.

Harry was surprised at the sudden contact and the closeness of having another male form so close to him, but it was Ron and there was nothing sexual about it. He was slowly relaxing into the hug when Ron pulled away to look at him in the face.

“I know it was a Basilisk, but I didn’t know it was _that_ Basilisk. And that wasn’t even everything... I don’t think we ever really thought about what it must have been like for you down here, Harry – or that I could ever say thank you for saving my sister.”

For Harry, it had just been the right thing to do and he was tempted to shrug it off - but he couldn’t. He had been able to save Ginny from a Basilisk and the memory of Tom Riddle; yet, he hadn’t even been able to save Cedric from just a single Dementor whereas he had managed to fight off over one hundred of them to save Sirius.

Not everybody could be saved, he supposed. Though, at this point, he would be thankful for each and every person that was spared, and saving Ginny had been important to Ron and Harry acknowledged it with a nod of his head.

During this brotherly exchange between the two of them, Hermione had been inching towards the Basilisk. She was intent on scrutinizing everything that she could about the beast that had petrified her during second year.

Harry and Ron moved over to join her.

“It is perfectly preserved,” she whispered reverently. Her fingers were lightly grazing over the large scales and her eyes were slightly squinted as she focused in on random details.

They spent some time examining the truly unparalleled specimen before Harry shared some of his thoughts with them about they could do with the Basilisk.

“I have been looking into potions that require Basilisk parts,” said Harry from behind.

“Oh?” Hermione turned around excitedly. Both Ron and Harry knew by the expression on her face that her mind was going over everything that she had ever heard or read about Basilisks.

“Discover anything interesting?” Ron added while Hermione was busy thinking.

“Actually, I found out quite a lot. Not many people, or countries rather, permit Basilisks to be made; however, there is a small village in India that breeds Basilisks. I think they manage to put one on the market every few years or so because they are difficult to hatch and then take years to grow to a size where they can recoup all of there costs and make a profit. I don’t know how they manage it without getting killed. Anyways, it is incredibly expensive to get scales, but the venom and fangs are priced astronomically. I think even the eyes have some use – though, for obvious reasons, they are the most expensive.”

“What about the potions?” Hermione asked. She had finished going over what she had read about them and had been captivated by Harry’s added information – which she didn’t know.

“There is a wide range of potions that can be made, from extremely powerful healing ones to those that are really quite nasty.”

“You could make a lot of money off of this, Harry.” She said when he had finished.

“Yeah, I suppose,” Harry kicked at the ground.

“But I had another thought as well.” His friends looked at him with a curious expression as he walked over to the beast and placed his hand on the scales.

“I was thinking about making something out of the scales for us, you know, like how they make use of the dragon’s hide?”

Hermione’s eyes lit up. “That’s brilliant, Harry! Basilisk skin is even stronger than a dragon’s and more resilient to Magic as well.”

Ron began strategically thinking about what articles of clothing would make the most sense.

“Pants and vests would be obvious choices,” he started, “right along with boots.” His right hand rose to scratch his head. Years of following quidditch and playing chess had given Ron a rather unique insight to how games were won or lost and he found it easy to apply that same line of thinking to this.

“Since we have so much of it, and if Harry wants to, I would suggest making outerwear as well. There is more than enough to make robes for the three of us with a lot left over. Not for everyday use, mind you, but it could come in handy. Of course, it would be you’re decision mate.”

“What’s mine is yours you guys, you know that.” Harry had never been one for material possessions or money and would rather have shared what he could with those he cared most about.

“My vote is for turning this into something that can protect us from the next horrible situation we find ourselves in.” Harry ended it rather bluntly; the contempt in his voice was obvious.

“Harry! You don’t know that anything bad will happen…” But she trailed off. Even she would not have bet against something happening now that Voldemort was out there again with his mind set on Harry for some strange, unknown reason.

“Anyways,” Harry moved on, getting control of his anger from his life that had apparently been cursed by fate.

“I figure that once we deal with the Basilisk we would have a nice spot to train. It would be big enough without the Basilisk, but I think it would be begin to creep us out slightly. There is ample room to set up something where we could learn proper defense and not that useless tripe that Dumbridge is teaching.”

“What a Dumbag!” Ron sighed; he had a knack for coming up with the most perfect names for that old hag.

Even Hermione couldn’t hold in her giggle, but because she didn’t consider Umbridge to be a proper teacher, that meant that Umbridge also didn’t get her proper respect.

They chatted about a few innocuous things before Harry worked up to getting to what had been on his mind. He felt that more than enough time had passed and that he was finally ready to open up to his friends about how thankful he was for their help.

“I just wanted to say thanks, to the both of you.”

Ron and Hermione got serious as he continued.

“I know it hasn’t been easy for you, or that I have been particularly pleasant to be around.”

It was the most Harry had ever said about the subject and they just let Harry speak until he was finished.

“And thanks, Ron, for going to Charlie. I think I needed to hear what he had to say.” They locked eyes again. The color in Harry’s eyes were not as dull as they had been recently.

“Don’t mention it, Harry. You’re my best mate. I’d do anything for you if I could,” Ron said in response.

Hermione had been informed of what Ron had planned and it had really solidified in her mind just how mature and different her new boyfriend had become. She thought that it couldn’t have come at a better time.

Soon, the moment was over and Harry moved on to show them the next part of the chamber that he had only recently discovered. All three spent some time exploring what used to be the Basilisk’s lair and then the side room that had nothing of note in it that they could find. Hermione kept hoping that one of them would see something and they could go on and explore something else. She was quite caught up in exploring an unknown part of the castle and didn’t want it to end.

But alas, there was nothing that stuck out at them. And the hour was getting quite close to lunchtime and they still had to finish their homework. They left the chamber and started to make their way back to Gryffindor while they quietly conversed about Professor Dumbridge and her new appointment and what it would possibly be like in the coming weeks when she started to inspect their other classes.

 

* * *

 

The next day, Harry finished going through all of his material in preparation for the upcoming week of classes. He liked to get organized and make sure that he was prepared for every lesson so that during the week he could use the library to augment his assignments and round out his learning.

When that was finished, he ventured to the Owlery to visit Hedwig. He made a point to visit her every week even though he never sent any letters anymore now that Sirius remained at the castle.

As time went on, he had been able to open up to his Godfather about some things and their relationship had become closer – but still not as close as they had been in the beginning of the summer. But they were getting there.

This time, however, Harry did have a letter to send and he was sure that Hedwig would jump at the chance to spread her wings and get out of the stuffy room to do more than just hunt for food.

It had taken Harry a few weeks to come up with a response to Charlie’s letter. At first, it had been a shock that someone was speaking so frank to him about tragedy; however, he came to appreciate how open and honest Charlie had been with him. He found himself thinking about it more and more with every reread of the letter and felt this unexplained connection to Charlie’s words.

And though Charlie hadn’t explicitly offered, Harry was hoping that he could continue speaking to Charlie about this.

 

_Charlie,_

_Thank you. I don’t know of a better way to say it; I think I needed to hear that and appreciate you taking the time to write it._

_I am sorry about what happened to Geoff and what you had to go through. It feels so weird hearing someone else explain exactly how I am feeling on the inside. Sometimes I feel so lost and alone, even when I am around my friends. And you are right: they can try to understand and they have been very supportive – but they just don’t get it, not really. _

_I think I spent all of August avoiding what happened – I’m not sure how much Ron told you. I couldn’t even think about him until I got to the Great Hall and didn’t see him at the Hufflepuff table. Isn’t it weird that such a little thing could trigger me to face reality?_

_After that, I spent a lot of time dealing with those emotions that I had put off. That first night was rough. Some nights are still pretty rough. And I hate it, all of it. I hate how it is so hard every single day to know that he is just lying there in St. Mongo’s… I hate that I couldn’t save him, that my Patronus didn’t get there in time._

_I often wonder how it happened: how did the Dementor sneak up on us and why where they even there? Why does everything keep happening to me?_

_Also, I have never really spoken to anyone about being gay. It just happened with Cedric, and, besides Sirius, no one else even knew we were dating. And then after, it was something that I never discussed with Ron or Hermione; though, they don’t seem to mind at all._

_I’m sorry. I don’t expect you to answer these questions or comments, but I find it easy to write them out right now. I find it easy to talk about most things with you. At least, I find I am able to think about saying all of this to you as I write this down. Is that okay? Because I do feel comfortable with this for some reason, and I think it helps knowing that you have gone through something similar and know how I am feeling. It gives me hope that the future will be better._

_Anyways, I hope this finds you well and wanted to thank you again. I hope we can continue talking about this because it does help._

_Sincerely,_

_Harry Potter._

* * *

**Ugh. I think it is so much better now. Don’t know why it was such a pain in the ass the first time. Let me know what you think!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Standard disclaimer about not owning anything; I am so thankful for JKR and all that she did for us. She gave us one of the greatest gifts, and so many people have taken to this site and played brilliantly with her creation. We should have a JKR day and it should be a global holiday!**

 

* * *

 

_Harry,_

_There is no need for you to thank me. I really am just glad that you read what I had to say and that my words helped in some way._

_I thought that sharing my experience and pain with you was important considering that what we had both experienced was similar in some way and that I had a pretty good idea of what you might be feeling on this inside. I know the feeling of being isolated and how it can make the situation even worse._

_I didn’t want that for you and it makes me thankful that you have Ron and Hermione’s support through this (Ron has really matured in my mind over the past few months). Just let them try to help; they don’t need to understand exactly how you are feeling on the inside to be able to be there for you._

_Ron gave me a summary of the events that happened when he contacted me. I have to say I was very worried when I heard of how withdrawn you had become – though I can’t really fault you. I didn’t visit home for a long time afterwards and my parents were forced to travel to Romania several times to check on me._

_Anyways, you can never be sure of the things that will remind you the most of the other person. It still happens to me all of the time. One minute I will be doing great, and then the next, something random will happen that will make me think of him. I suppose I am telling you all of this because I don’t want someone else to make the same mistakes that I did. I held onto my grief for much too long and only recently have I been really able to let go of a lot. I don’t want your pain to consume you like mine did. What happened was a tragedy, but it doesn’t – or shouldn’t rather – prevent you getting on with your life._

_I know that seems hard to do now, and disrespectful to Cedric, but I honestly believe Geoff would have been pissed if he knew how I wasted the last few years of my life. He wouldn’t have wanted that, and I don’t think Cedric would either. And I don’t think you should blame yourself for what happened. It was a good thing that you even knew how to cast the Patronus Charm - which is pretty impressive Harry (not many adults can do that)!_

_Though, that feeling of wanting to blame yourself is normal and I completely understand. We were Dragon Tamers and we should have anticipated that the orphan Dragon would have sought out a new parental figure!_

_Some of your comments really made me think about how things do tend to happen to you. It is rather odd now that I think about it. Your life has been quite complicated so far, and I’m sure you just want to live a normal life. That has to make this so much harder now that I look at it from your perspective. It isn’t fair that you should have to deal with this on top of everything else. Well, it isn’t fair that you should have to deal with any of the things that you have gone through. I am sorry for that, Harry. I wish I could do something to share your burden._

_I don’t know why bad things happen; I wish they didn’t. And I hope these don’t break you. You have so much to give, Harry. Please, talk to me about them if you want to. I’m honored that you feel so comfortable talking to me about them. In truth, I suppose I feel the same._

_I know that some of the things I have said are quite personal and frank, but they don’t feel that way, at least, not to me. It is very easy to talk, or write rather, with you._

_In regards to your sexuality, do you consider yourself gay or have you only been attracted to Cedric? It could be that you fell for the person and not what sex they were… I guess I don’t know much more about it (and don’t feel like you need to tell me if it makes you uncomfortable). Myself, I have only been attracted to guys._

_In fact, how about we promise to write only things that we are comfortable with? I learned it in therapy (which I should have started earlier, and is something you may want to consider). I found it helpful to express things in stages and gradually work up to talking about the things that make you the most uncomfortable. That way, it’ll make things easier if you want to keep writing and we won’t have to worry about overstepping any bounds._

_Because I do want to encourage you to talk to someone, and again I’m more than happy to do it, even if you find that you want to talk to someone different in the future._

_I’m glad that I have been able to be of any help. Really. The future will get better; at least, we have to believe that sometimes, even when it seems like it won’t._

_~ Charlie._

_Also, let me know if you have any questions about O.W.L.s. I’m sure you must be sick of all of the extra work by now. Hope you had a great Halloween at the school – the floating pumpkins were always my favorite!_

 

Harry held the letter to his chest. It didn’t matter that he had just finished rereading it for about the tenth time in the past few weeks; it just made things easier when he focused on the words that Charlie had written.

He didn’t know why it made the tightness in his chest lighten or why he found the thought of tomorrow just a little brighter. Harry was just grateful that he had someone to talk to, and honestly, it really did help having someone who knew exactly how he was feeling. In Harry’s case, knowing that Charlie had gotten through something similar really did give him hope.

He placed the letter under his pillow where he had starting putting it given how many times he actually read it. Sometimes he found that reading the letter was therapeutic and he didn’t have to go down alone into the chamber as much.

But seeing as it was a Monday morning, he kicked off the covers and headed to the showers. Even though he had been sleeping better recently, he still tended to wake up early. Which was fine with him as he tended to use the empty common room to finish some of his extracurricular readings. He had become fascinated with magical theory and he was currently focusing on the fundamental difference between Charms and Transfiguration. It was pretty complicated, but he had finally gotten to that point where things were starting to come together.

At any rate, he thought that it would help him on the written portion of some of his exams. For instance, he had already learned that, for certain spells, the way the wand moved was integral to the success of the spell; however, in others, it hardly mattered. And know he knew the reasons for that!

Harry read until Hermione and Ron joined him and then the trio headed down to the Great Hall.

The day progressed as expected. Transfiguration involved a lot of practice using the switching spells that they had just begun learning. The three of them had been consistently among the first to successfully complete whatever they were working on and today proved to be no different. Of course, the class ended with even more work being assigned to them to complete over the course of the next week.

They were now two and a half months into the year and some students were already showing signs of stress at the amount of work they were under.

Although, not every class significantly added to their workload; for instance, they were only ever assigned readings for Defense – and they were not difficult to get through, provided you could stay awake through the mindless drivel of an author who didn’t seem to know what he was talking about. The absence of adequate teaching in that class was causing worry of a different nature among the school because no one felt confident with the material. At least in the other classes they could say that they were learning something, even if they were drowning in homework.

So far, they had yet to witness Dumbridge in another professor’s classroom, but that all changed as they headed towards the dungeon for their double block of potions on Monday afternoon.

Dolores was sitting in the back corner of the classroom with a large clipboard resting on her lap. She watched the fifth year Gryffindor and Slytherin students enter, her face passive except for the obvious excitement dancing in her eyes because of the negative reviews she was about to give Potions.

She knew that Severus was the most loathed professor in the whole school, aside from herself - which she wouldn’t have believed even if it had been a front page headline in the Daily Prophet.

So Potions was an obvious place for her to begin to direct some of her more negative critiques, never mind that it was naturally one of the harder subjects with historically lower pass rates because of it. Some students just had trouble grasping the complex interactions of the ingredients no matter how much effort they put in.

Harry discretely rolled his eyes at her presence and got his mindscape ready, as it had become second nature for him whenever he was in the toad’s presence. Hermione and Ron sat next to each other right in front of Harry and Neville, and the four of them each had a nervous look on their face as they wondered how a double session with Dolores and Severus would go.

Just then, Snape entered from his private potion’s lab in the adjoining classroom. He ignored Umbridge’s presence and immediately set the potion instructions on the board for the class to follow.

He had just finished using his wand to quickly scrawl the last line when a small sounded interrupted him.

“Hem, hem,” came from the back.

The class as a whole held its breath, wondering how the most notorious professor would handle anyone dictating him in his own classroom.

Snape turned and kept his face expressionless aside from his right brow rising slightly.

It took Dolores a second to respond under his stare.

“I was just wondering if you got my note informing you that I would be here today, for this lesson, for my role as the Hogwarts High Inquisitor. I will be reviewing your performance – as well as those of the students - today.” Her swelled face looked pleased at displaying her authority.

“Obviously,” Snape responded dryly. “Or else I would not have allowed you to remain.” His attention turned to the class.

The light dimmed a little in her eyes as she was displeased with the respect she had just been shown. However, a new spark ignited in her bulging orbs as she began to scribble furiously on her clipboard.

Snape instructed them to begin, and his eyes set on Harry for a brief moment and their eyes connected. Harry had the faintest trace of a smirk on his face but got up from his seat the moment that Snape had seen him and joined Neville in preparing their ingredients.

This year was unlike any other for the two of them. Not once had Harry been given a detention or had manage to visibly annoy the man. If anything, he was slowly winning his respect with each assignment that he turned in or potion that Neville and him had manage to brew perfectly. Of course, Snape had never given them an O – or had indicated how much he looked forward to Harry’s insights when he received a thought-provoking and original take on the potion.

In fact, all of the animosity that had existed in the man towards Harry was almost completely gone.

And the reasons for that were very complex.

Snape had never hated Harry Potter; he had hated, loathed, James though. And he had never forgiven himself for his role in getting Lily killed. So it was easier for him to make the child hate him because he hated himself for what he had done to her.

However, with Voldemort back – he knew it was only a matter of time until Harry learned the truth about why his parents had died.

Snape sat at his desk, his face blank, and devoting a small portion of his mind to making sure no accidents happened by watching over the students.

But what was going on inside his mind was a completely different story. He was aware of what had been within Harry’s scar: the ancient and horrific magic that had kept the Dark Lord alive.

He wasn’t surprised at the boy’s improvement in classes, as Harry’s mind and magic no longer had a sliver of Voldemort to contend with. Harry’s behavior and insights that he had into the nature and essence of magic reminded him of Lily so much.

But the thing that had caused him to be softer towards the boy, even if some of his Slytherins were aware that he longer assigned detentions to the Boy Who Lived, was the muted color of his eyes. They were no longer like Lily’s – and he didn’t like that at all. The boy looked so much like his father and nothing in his features reminded him of his dear friend, his first love, anymore.

He would have given anything to have them shine like the bright color of emerald green again, and he was encouraged that every week that went by they grew a little lighter and more of Lilly shown through.

Though, with that came a newfound respect for the boy and all he had been through and all that he would have to face in the future. Severus felt ashamed that he had ever acted that way to an undeserving child, and he couldn’t do it anymore. Even if he felt he deserved Harry’s hate.

His thoughts were interrupted by an intensely irritating noise.

“Hem, hem,” the toad said, her bright pink robes touching the edge of his desk.

If Snape was being honest with himself, he didn’t know whether it was harder to keep his cool in front of Voldemort or this horrible excuse of a witch. At least with Voldemort he knew he was no match for him; Umbitch, his own personal moniker for her, however was far beneath him.

“Yes?” he managed, having to employ high levels of Occlumency to keep his voice even.

Her cheeks flushed with color; she relished when she could exert her power over others.

“So sorry to disturb your _active_ teaching,” she sang in her sugary voice.

“I just wanted to know your thoughts on some of the students.”

She blinked; her quill was hovering over her clipboard in anticipation.

“What do you want to know?” he said, sitting back in his chair and putting his fingertips together. Snape needed to keep his hands occupied or else he was sure he would have gone for his wand. He couldn’t stand the woman, and had a few curses ready on his tongue.

Her eyes squinted slightly in delight as her cheeks somehow grew fuller.

“I want to know of any problem students – and make sure detentions are being appropriately given,” she practically gushed. Her mouth had a slight upturn, reminding him of how the Dark Lord looked when he was about to cast the Cruciatus. ‘Perhaps I should introduce them,’ he thought sardonically.

He wondered where she was going with this, and made a mental note to think about it later.

“No more than the usual problems that occur when one attempts to combine potions with dunderheads,” he said noncommittally, curious at her where she was trying to lead him.

“So sorry, but it would seem that you _do_ have a problem with certain students in your class.” Her toad-like eyes flashed with excitement and malice.

At this point during their conversation, Hermione, Ron, and Harry were stealing glances towards the front of the room and trying to follow along while concentrating on their potion. They had noticed a slight change in Professor Snape’s behavior, though honestly weren’t surprised; Dumbridge seemed to have that affect on people.

They couldn’t hear anything but that didn’t stop them from trying.

Snape raised his eyebrow in response to her cheek.

Dolores continued. “I have been going through your records.” She paused for dramatic effect.

“And I would have to question why you paired your two worst students together.” Her appearance struck him as a predator that was circling her prey.

Again, he wondered what her angle was and if this was perhaps the Dark Lord himself.

‘What had Harry,’ he thought who he know understood her target to be, ‘done to bring on her wrath?’

“It would seem that Potter has been paired with Longbottom. Neville has the lowest grades in this glass and Potter has spent more time in detention than most in the school. Only a pair of seventh years has ever had more.”

He was honestly confused as to why she was going after the boy, and found himself becoming quite defensive over Harry. Though, he wasn’t in the position to do anything about it.

“That may be,” he said quietly, “however, I think you will find them both performing satisfactory this year. In fact, neither has warranted a detention.”

“And why might that be?” she asked. Some of the luster was beginning to fade from her eyes as she furiously thought of a way to get what she wanted.

He hesitated for the briefest of moments, giving himself that air of being honest without telling the whole truth. It was a skill that he had perfected over the years, especially before the Dark Lord.

“It would seem that the upcoming Ordinary Wizarding Level examinations have brought out the best in the pair. It happens _sometimes_.” He emphasized to the toad.

“Hmmm, I don’t know about that. Is that why you have marked them consistently at,” she rummaged through her notes, “A’s?”

Snape was employing all of the skills that he possessed. For some reason, she got under his skin more than James Potter had; he couldn’t afford to lose his cool in front of her.

“Their grades have improved,” he emphasized again.

Suddenly, an explosion rocketed the classroom and Neville was forced backwards, slamming into the desk behind him and becoming unconscious.

Snape jumped out of his chair and had his wand in his hand, conjuring protective bubbles around the other students.

“Silence,” he called, quieting the uneasiness that had followed.

“Granger,” he beckoned, “you and Weasley take him to the infirmary at once.”

He flicked his wand and Neville’s body straightened and then rose to float in the air.

“A simple guiding spell should suffice.”

Hermione looked torn; she would not only be leaving her and Ron’s potion behind, but she would be leaving Harry alone as well.

However, she had little choice and unsheathed her wand to guide Neville to Madam Pomfrey. Both her and Ron managed to catch Harry’s eye before they departed and passed along a comforting grimace that they hoped would be taken as, ‘hang in there.’

Harry just looked confused. He had no idea what had suddenly gone wrong with their potion.

When Hermione and Ron had left with Neville in tow, Umbridge turned to Snape.

Her face practically screamed, ‘I told you so.’

“Well, it would seem that some things never change.” Her voice was as sweet as he had ever heard it.

“Now, unless I am mistaken – which I hardly ever am – I think a series of detentions are in order for hurting a fellow classmate in class.”

She looked at Snape expectantly.

Snape was livid. There was no doubt in his mind that the explosion had happened because of Umbridge; however, he had no proof and his hands were tied. There were rules that dictated detentions, and, in this case, they couldn’t be skirted. He couldn’t manufacture ways to get Harry out of detention.

The irony wasn’t lost on him: for all of the times that he had stretched the rules to give the boy a detention, he was simply powerless in this moment to prevent one.

“Potter,” he called out in a tone that he reserved for the most dunder of dunderheads.

It pained him to do so, and he forced himself to glare at the boy.

“Detention for a week for endangering the life of your fellow classmates!”

Harry’s face fell; he was disappointed in himself and had no idea of what had happened and all of his thoughts were hoping that Neville was okay.

Lost in all of this was the triumphant gleam that showed in two round and bulging eyes. She had finally succeeded in getting Potter called out for the hellion that she knew him to be – even if she had needed to lend a helping hand.

The class slowly resumed as the other students tended to what would be their graded assignments for the day.

Harry, however, remained at his desk and laid his head in his soot-covered hands for the remainder of the period.

Umbridge was the first to leave and the rest of the class trickled out slowly when the bell sounded.

Just as Harry was about to walk through the door, Snape called to him.

“Potter, a word? We need to go over the terms of your punishment,” he announced in case others were listening in. Part of the reason that he was so hard on the boy was because of all of the Slytherins that were around. He had been privy to Albus’ council, and knew that he would have to act a certain way around some of the students. Just because he hadn’t been mean to Potter this year didn’t mean that he hadn’t been nice.

Harry looked at him, resigned to whatever was about to happen. He had been foolish to get comfortable with how pleasant potions had been going so far this year.

However, the moment the last student departed there was a quick swish of Snape’s wand and the door closed, leaving them alone.

“Harry, what happened?” his voice was as soft as Harry had ever heard it, causing him to take a slight double-take.

“I don’t know, Sir. Nothing should have caused an explosion like that at the stage we were at in the potion. I know that most of the ingredients are rather volatile, but not at the point that we were at.”

Harry looked genuinely confused and kept running through everything he knew about the potion in his mind; it scared him to think that there was something that he was missing that had put Neville’s in harm way.

Snape moved towards him ever so slightly.

“You did nothing wrong,” he spoke suddenly.

Harry immediately got a thoughtful look on his face.

“For some reason, which I have yet to discover, I think that _Professor_ Umbridge,” – it hurt him to say that out loud – “seems to have it out for you.”

Recognition flashed through Harry’s eyes.

“So you have noticed it,” Snape commented.

Both of their minds were busy with thought.

“I would caution you to be extremely wary around her.”

Harry was a bit taken aback. ‘Did Snape just do something nice for me?’

“Can you think of anything that would explain her reaction to you? Did something happen that would explain this?”

Harry shook his head – he could barely think about what he had done to make Snape seem so _nice_. For that matter, what had he ever done to Snape to earn his ire in the first place?

It gave Snape a lot to think about.

“My detention?” Harry freed him from his thoughts.

“I have to give it to you – but not because I _want_ to.”

Again, Harry was thoroughly confused at Snape’s apparent about-face.

“Consider it an extra study period for yourself here after dinner.”

Harry nodded, wanting to get to the hospital wing and check on Neville before informing Ron and Hermione about how strange Snape was acting.

Harry nodded and moved towards the door, but stopped just as he was about to pull on the handle.

An idea suddenly popped into his mind and he quickly thought that now was as good a time as any with how Snape was behaving. It almost made him think that someone was polyjuicing him.

He turned around, noting the raised eyebrow of his professor at his bold action.

“Yes?” he asked.

“You asked what I had ever done to Dumbr… I mean Professor Umbridge.”

He quickly continued despite his flub.

“It got me thinking: what did I ever do to you?” he put forth bravely.

 

* * *

 

**Let me know what you think!**


	15. Chapter 15

**Standard disclaimer about not owning anything; I am so thankful for JKR and all that she did for us. She gave us one of the greatest gifts, and so many people have taken to this site and played brilliantly with her creation. We should have a JKR day and it should be a global holiday!**

* * *

Snape stared at Harry, unable to articulate anything in response.

         That very question and all of the history that went with it was and had been a dominating thought in his mind. The only thing that consumed more of his mental energies was wondering when the Dark Lord would call his followers back to him and how he would have to take up his role as a double agent again.

         Harry was watching Snape intently, half expecting the man to snap at him for his brazen question.

         Eventually, Snape found his voice, though he debated what to say to the boy.

         He knew it wouldn’t be long before Harry would be made aware of the prophecy and from there it was only a matter of time before he started putting the history of everything together – if he wasn’t already.

         But he also just couldn’t tell him nothing until then – that would just make Harry even more furious when the boy found out what he had done.

         “It’s complicated, Mr. Potter,” Snape managed after a few more minutes of quiet contemplation.

         Harry’s face lightened when he realized that the man wasn’t angry with his question, and Harry became even more curious as to why.

         “But now is not the time,” he started and Harry’s face sank.

         “Our absences would be noted at dinner; however, I will tell you what I can tonight at your detention.”

         Harry was stunned; it was more than he could have hoped to get out of the man.

         He could only nod his head and then hurried off to the hospital wing to check on Neville before dinner.

         Madam Pomfrey had everything under control when Harry arrived and Ron and Hermione were quietly talking in the corner when they spotted him and beckoned him to join them.

         “Harry, what happened after we left?” Hermione eyed him warily.

         “Dumbridge made Snape give me a detention for injuring another student in class. How is Neville by the way?” Harry continued quickly.

         “Madam Poppy said a light concussion and that he would be fine in a few hours.”

         Harry was relieved but Hermione was intent on knowing everything that happened after she had left.

         “Tell me everything,” she practically ordered.

         “At first, I couldn’t think what I had done,” Harry whispered after looking around to make sure no one else would hear them, which intrigued Ron greatly and he leaned in closer.

         “But, as soon as everyone else left, Snape called my name. He asked me what I had done and I told him that I was sure that an explosion shouldn’t have happened at the stage we were at in the potion, which he agreed with. However, then he said that he thought Dumbridge was behind the entire thing and for me to be wary around her. He thinks she is up to something, and that he didn’t want to give me a detention and I can just do my homework when I go there tonight.”

         Harry hesitated on telling them the rest, but he wouldn’t have been able to even if he had wanted to because Hermione was furious. It was one thing in her mind for a teacher to not take his or her role seriously but to purposefully endanger a student was the point of no return for her.

         “That vile, loathsome, ughhhhh,” she shrieked, causing Madam Pomfrey to look over at them.

         “If you are going to talk loudly, I will have to ask you to leave,” she glared at the trio.

         Harry made an apologetic face, nodded, and led his friends outside where they could talk more freely.

         Once they were clear of the hospital wing, Hermione began her tirade again which Harry had needed to head off.

         “Now, Snape has no proof that it was her – so we have no proof but he did warn me.” Harry said firmly, even though it was likely the hag was behind it.

         “I can’t believe she would do that. I swear, I will make her pay for almost hurting Neville,” Hermione harrumphed.

         Ron and Harry agreed with her, and they talked for a few more minutes until she was calm enough to head down to the Great Hall and be in the same room as Umbridge without shouting off curses.

         “Harry?” Hermione whispered on the way.

         “I think it would be beneficial for you to teach us Occlumency as soon as possible.” Hermione said very seriously. “I don’t think classes with her are going to be easy knowing what she has done.”

         That perked Ron’s interest as well.

         “Sure,” Harry said immediately.

         Dinner went by quickly for Harry and it turned out that Umbridge wasn’t present until the very end, just when they made to leave. Harry headed down to the dungeons and Hermione and Ron headed off to the library to get their work done before their patrol as prefects later that evening.

         Harry entered the Potions classroom and sat down at his bench and pulled out his homework to work on until Snape entered the room from his private laboratory.

         They sat in silence for a while, Snape was at his desk writing something on parchment with quick pen strokes and Harry just read through his Transfiguration text. Harry kept glancing at Snape every so often, wondering when they were going to talk but not feeling quite as brave as he did before to initiate the conversation himself.

        About halfway through the detention though, Snape started to speak, interrupting Harry from his reading.

         “You never did anything to me,” Snape uttered in his trademark voice.

         Harry almost dropped his book from the sudden admission, and closed it on his bench before looking at the man.

         Snape was staring at a point just behind Harry and his quill was still in his hand.

         “Sir?” Harry asked.

         Snape set the quill down but still didn’t look directly at Harry.

         “Your mother and I were very good friends when we were younger,” Snape offered and instantly gaining Harry’s absolute interest with talks of his mother.

         “We lived near each other and became friends before Hogwarts. Your mother continued the friendship even after she was sorted into Gryffindor and I was sent to Slytherin; she never cared that people thought it was unusual.”

         Harry didn’t know how to feel about hearing that his mum and Snape had been good friends but found that it didn’t bother him in the least.

         “Your father and I, however, is a different matter.”

         Harry knew about that and just nodded his head.

         “However, _things_ happened and we grew apart. In a moment of weakness, I called your mother something unforgivable – and she gave up on me.”

         Harry could only guess what name he could have called a muggleborn and he wanted to be angry with the man but he saw the regret and remorse in his eyes. Harry was certain that Snape would have done anything to go back and change things.

         “After Hogwarts, we went our separate ways. Now, there are some things that happened that I can’t tell you – just know that I have acted the way I have because I felt you should hate me – and I couldn’t stand the sight of you because you look so much like your father. Except you had your mother’s eyes.”

         This was a lot for Harry to process, and he was sure this was the most he had ever heard the man say. It wasn’t exactly filling Harry in on what he wanted to know but it was something.

         “What changed then, Professor?” Harry asked quietly.

         “Your eyes stopped looking like your mother’s, and it killed me to see them so dull and lifeless. And then you started to write with great insight just like she had and it reminded me so much of her that I simply couldn’t stand making you more miserable than you already were.”

         “Oh,” Harry responded at that very honest admission.

         “And other reasons of course, but that is the gist of it.”

         Harry thought for a few moments, taking in everything that he had just heard.

         “Sir,” Harry began, knowing that he didn’t need to know everything to start putting together a solid theory for why he must have acted the way he had.

         “Whatever you did that you can’t or won’t tell me, do you regret it? Just like you regret what you said to my mum?”

         ‘So like Lilly,’ Severus closed his eyes in thought. Of course Harry would more or less put things together with limited information.

         This time, Snape looked directly at Harry when he opened his eyes and answered his question.

         “Not a day goes by that I don’t regret what I did. I would do anything to take both of those things back.”

         Harry’s green eyes stared into Snape’s black obsidian orbs for a few seconds before the man blinked and turned his head to the side, where Harry was wondering if he was imagining the man’s eyes becoming slightly more glistening and wet.

         “I think that is all for tonight. You may leave, your detention is finished.” Snape shuffled the papers that he had been working on and got up and exited to his private lab, leaving Harry contemplating what could have possibly affected the man’s core so much.

         ‘What horrible thing did he do?’ Harry asked himself. He sat there for a few minutes longer, wondering if he should be mad at the man – but he couldn’t find it in him to be. The man was obviously sorry and for the moment that was enough for him and he would have to worry about it later.

         Harry gathered his book and shoved it in his bag and started walking towards Gryffindor with a lot on his mind.

 

* * *

 

         Harry was still thinking about what Snape had said a few weeks later when everyone was getting ready for the holidays.

         He wondered if it was in any way connected to what Dumbledore was supposed to tell him once he had mastered Occlumency – except that Harry found whenever he thought about approaching the man to test how far he had come he could never find him.

         At any rate, it was too much to think about with everything else that he had going on. On top of finishing all of their work before the holiday started, which would only lead to more homework over the break, they had been informed that they would be meeting with their head of house to discuss their career options.

         Each student had been assigned a one-on-one time to go over their classes and get feedback on their performance and how likely it was they would achieve the required O.W.L. grade to continue on in that subject that would allow them to take their N.E.W.T.s in two years time.

         Harry had never really considered what he would do after Hogwarts; he was more or less just focusing on making it out of Hogwarts, alive.

          His time with Professor McGonagall was Sunday, right after supper the week before break started. Harry spent some of his limited free time looking over the pamphlets they had been given describing various careers and the different grades needed to apply. So far, Harry thought something in the Department of Mysteries sounded interesting but he wasn’t about to rule out a career in the DMLE either. Harry felt an inexplicable tug towards the prospect of being an Auror like his father and didn’t want to rule that out yet, even if the described positions as an unspeakable spoke to his changing study habits and interests.

         Eventually, he reached a point where he couldn’t think about it anymore and knew that he would get helpful feedback later that night during his session and so he spent the morning replying to Charlie’s last letter. It had been over a month since he had responded to Charlie’s last letter because he had had a lot on his mind since then with what happened with Snape and thinking about his upcoming exams and what they could mean for his life.

 

_Charlie,_

_I can’t help it; I am very thankful for your help and will always feel like I have to say it._

_I am sorry it took me so long to reply to your last letter. Things have been quite_

_busy here with all of the work and then with meeting with our head of house to talk about our career prospects. I had never given it any serious thought before. But I guess I am leaning towards something in the Department of Mysteries or an Auror._

_Anyways, I think that I read your previous letter at least twenty times. I found it really comforting to read it when I was having some of my more difficult moments. Your words really help! I will listen to anything that you want to share or think that is relevant; it has worked so far, and I think I may give that whole therapy a try once things have calmed down somewhat. Maybe after O.W.L.s this summer when I have the time._

_And you were right by the way (you are right about a lot of things) about Ron and Hermione. I can’t expect them to know what I am going through, but it hasn’t stopped them from being there for me. I feel a little bad with how much it has taken on their part, but I would do the same for either one of them. They make the hard moments easier (just like your letters)._

_It is getting easier to get on with my life – but I still think of Cedric often. I have been thinking about visiting him at St. Mungo’s over the holiday – but I don’t know if I am ready. I have been making a lot of progress and wonder if it will set me back. Am I strong enough to see him like that?_

_Because it is hard not to blame myself, Charlie. Very hard. I don’t think I could stand to see him lying there knowing that if I had been just a second quicker…_

_What happened with Geoff? Do you visit his grave often? Sorry, that was forward. But I am comfortable with it if you are about talking about it. I agree with your suggestion and will only write what I want to and you do the same._

_Anyways, my life is a real kicker isn’t it? And you don’t know the half of it. Maybe I will tell you all about it sometime, but that would be quite a long letter and I don’t have a week to devote to it. Sometimes I wish my life was different, but then I don’t know if I could have dealt with Cedric. It was almost like dealing with everything else made me surviving what happened to him possible. Is that a weird thought?_

_Thank you for wishing you could share my burden, but I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. Well, that isn’t true. There are a few people I could think of that I would wish it on. If you are around at Christmas I’ll tell you about it. Just don’t tell Sirius, he would flip!_

_One of the reasons I read your letter so many times was because your words gave me hope. You told me what I needed to hear but I also believed them when you wrote them. I feel like I have a lot to give on the inside – and I am surprised by how much is still there after what happened. I don’t know why life hasn’t broken me yet – but I guess that having people like you and my friends and Remus and Sirius help. And I barely know you!_

_I don’t think I have ever been this frank with someone about how I feel. And I really appreciate you talking to me like an equal. It doesn’t feel weird in the slightest. I feel like I can tell you anything, Charlie. I can’t tell you how much easier it makes all of this. I don’t have to second guess what I am writing and can just tell you things that I can’t even tell Ron or Hermione._

_Like me being gay. I haven’t been able to open up to Ron or Hermione about that even though I know that they know. I never realized how I felt for anyone until Cedric, but since then… that felt weird to write… I notice guys more than girls and I find guys attractive. Sometimes I feel bad for noticing a guy so soon after Cedric – even though we never got very far. Which I’m sure you don’t want to hear about._

_When did you know you were gay? What was your experience like? How was it after Geoff?_

_I don’t know if I would feel like opening up to someone else right now – not when it is so easy with you. As long as you are happy to listen, I think I will be more than happy to talk._

_Because I want the future to get better and I want to get better. I don’t think I will ever get over what happened to Cedric because of other things I suppose I never really got over – or dealt with properly now that I think about it. Like my parents, but that is a whole other discussion and I have to get going to my career appointment._

_~ Harry._

_P.S. What are you doing for the holidays? If you are around here you should come over to Grimmauld Place. It would be nice to see you in person and pick your brain about O.W.L.s._

         Harry had a small smile on his face that lasted all throughout dinner. He didn’t know why talking to Charlie felt so right, but he couldn’t imagine opening up to anyone else about this.

         Hermione had talked nonstop throughout the meal about the career advice that she had received earlier in the day.

         “I never thought about all I could do and taking all those electives really opened up a lot of doors,” was just one of the many statements that she had made between small bites of her food. It was obvious that she was excited by the choice of future that she had and so Ron and Harry humored her need to go through some of thoughts aloud.

         It was the least that Harry could do after everything his friend had done for him.

         When dinner was finished, Harry waved off his friends and headed to the Transfiguration classroom where his meeting was scheduled to be held.

         He approached the room and slowed his approach upon hearing two raised voices from within and abruptly stopped upon entering the doorway. He tried his best to back out unnoticed.

         “This is highly inappropriate, Dolores.”

         “Be that as it may, Minerva, I am simply fulfilling my duties as…”

         The sound of Harry entering and then trying to back out caused a shuffling sound on the stone floor that alerted Minerva and Dolores to his presence.

         “I can just come back later,” Harry tried to explain while he kept backing up. He had no desire to be in _her_ presence at the moment; getting through her class was hard enough.

         “I’m sorry, Harry. It would seem that you are right on time.”

         Harry didn’t like the sound of resignation in her reply.

         “ _Professor_ Umbridge here,” Minerva didn’t try to keep the disdain out of her voice, “has demanded to be present for your career consultation. She maintains that it is within her right as Hogwarts High Inquisitor to be present for any event in the castle that she chooses.”

         “Yes, Minerva, as High Inquisitor it is fully within my purview. Now then, Mr. Potter, come here.”

         Her predatory smile was back, as was her clipboard and quill, and she settled into a chair and beckoned Harry to join them.

         Harry reluctantly walked forward, the good mood he had been in with replying to Charlie’s letter completely forgotten.

         He took his seat and looked at Professor McGonagall, ignoring the narrowing eyes of Umbridge.

         “Well then,” Minerva continued, “shall we?”

         Harry nodded.

         “Have you given any thought to the pamphlets that we’ve given you?”

         Harry nodded again.

         “Yes, professor,” Harry replied.

         “I think I have narrowed it down to a few options.”

         Minerva wasn’t surprised that Harry had taken the initiative; his performance this year had really improved all around and Minerva had high hopes for him.

         “Obviously, I have considered following in my father’s footsteps and becoming an Auror.”

         The sentiment warmed Minerva’s heart and she smiled.

         “Hem hem,” the toad interrupted and continued without anyone asking for her input.

         “I don’t know if he has the temperament for that. The Ministry performs strict background checks and he has quite the record.”

         McGonagall ignored her and Harry began his usual retreat into his mind to tune her out.

         “I see here that you certainly seem to be a good candidate for the prerequisites as your grades have markedly improved this year. I don’t think you will have a problem getting your required O.W.L.s and if you put in the same amount of work for your N.E.W.T.s than you should be fine.”

         “Hem hem,” Dolores croaked louder.

         “Are you sure you have his most recent grades, Minerva? He has been performing quite poorly in _my_ class so far this year and I don’t see him improving any time soon.”

         At this point, Minerva turned her head to reply.

         “I’m sorry, Dolores, I should have said that his grades are more than satisfactory in any class taught by a competent teacher.”

         At that, Dolores looked like she was ready to blow and began scribbling as if her life depended on it.

         “Now then,” Minerva turned to Harry.

         “What were your other thoughts?”

         “Well, I have enjoyed some of the theoretical aspects of magic this year, and I’ve been thinking about the Department of Mysteries.”

         Dolores snorted, if she had her way then Harry Potter wouldn’t find any employment with the Ministry.

         Minerva was slightly surprised by that, but too much as it did follow Harry’s increased improvement so far this year.

         “Really, Harry? What kind of work were you think about – I see here,” she shuffled to look through some of the requirements.

         “That you would need Runes and Arithmancy for most of the positions – and while you aren’t taking them now, I think you could pass the tests in a few years if you devoted some serious independent study to them.”

         Harry was glad that Minerva was taking him seriously, it was a little weird how decisions made in third year could affect the career choices you made and he was happy that she was very open to the idea even if it did mean he would have to learn those courses by himself. It was a great vote of confidence in his abilities and he appreciated her support.

         “Thanks, Professor.” Harry said.

         “I was thinking about something involving research – I really have found my rhythm this year and thoroughly enjoy some of the essays that I’ve had to write.”

         This was music to Minerva’s ears and she was delighted to see Harry taking more and more after his mother.

         “There are many options within the Department of Mysteries. You could work on magical mysteries, confidential research into time or space, even prophecies,” Minerva stated absentmindedly.

         Harry, however, felt his world come crashing down at the word prophecy.

         Nothing had ever been more clear to him and he could have kicked himself that he hadn’t put everything together before. Heck, he had even witnessed someone utter a prophecy in his presence and knew of there existence from the time he had spent with Trelawney.

         But it fit; it explained everything and made so much sense that it simply had to be true.

         Minerva noticed it immediately at Harry’s face shifted to a sudden realization followed by intense thought. She realized her error and glanced sideways at Dolores who was thankfully so busy with her quill that she failed to notice the change of pace.

         “Harry?” Minerva said hesitantly.

         Harry didn’t need to look at her face to see the acknowledgement that she had more or less confirmed what was running through his head.

         Harry knew prophecies existed but now he knew that one involved him and possibly Voldemort and all of the questions that he had for Snape and Dumbledore just fell into place as he now new one of the answers.

 

* * *

 

         **Thoughts?**


	16. chapter 16

In regards to this chapter, I think that there are many ways for Harry to react to the news of the prophecy and this is simply one of those. I tried to take into account what he had just been through.

 

 

Hope you enjoy!

 

         **Standard disclaimer about not owning anything; I am so thankful for JKR and all that she did for us. She gave us one of the greatest gifts, and so many people have taken to this site and played brilliantly with her creation. We should have a JKR day and it should be a global holiday!**

 

* * *

 

         Harry couldn’t think straight as he left Minerva’s office after finally getting that last puzzle piece which put his life together. Of course a prophecy about him and Voldemort existed; he just hadn’t been able to see the big picture yet – but once he had, it explained too much to be anything other than the truth.

         The dimly lit corridors in the castle blurred together as Harry’s feet carried him to an unknown destination. He hardly noticed the few students that were out and about and they were so used to giving him space that they didn’t even see him pass.

         His journey ended in a familiar, though unexpected place, and after all of the strange events in his life – he just went with it and knocked on the door.

         Harry barely had any time to think about what he was going to actually say as the door was quickly pulled open and an annoyed Severus Snape stood in the doorframe, ready to berate the one who dared to disturb him at this hour. However, whatever he had been about to say or do was put on hold the moment he saw Harry’s face.

         Though, the abrupt change that silenced Professor Snape did not do the same for Harry, who proceeded to blurt the thoughts that would forever seem to be etched into his mind now.

        “A prophecy,” he stated, forcing Snape to react quickly as this was not a conversation to be had in an open hallway.

         “Are you a bloody fool?” he whispered harshly at the Gryffindor as he dragged Harry into his office and closed the door behind him.

         “A prophecy,” he stated again, ignoring the man’s words for caution completely. “There is a prophecy about me and Voldemort, isn’t there!” Harry stated confidently.

         Out of everyone in the school, Snape was the one person that wouldn’t sugarcoat his answer.

         Snape eyed the young man carefully, knowing that this was a delicate situation and one that he had not expected to be in. As it was, there were very real issues that this would bring up between them and he thought he would have had more time after their last talk.

         “What brought this on?” Snape inquired carefully, giving himself more time to think of an adequate response.

         “I just had a career session with Professor McGonagall, and we were talking about the Department of Mysteries. She listed some of the areas of work available, but once I heard about the Hall of Prophecy – it just clicked. Tell me, is it true?”

         There was anger and frustration in Harry’s eyes and tears had started to well up, threatening to spill over his cheeks.

         Snape felt an uncomfortable sensation in his chest as emotions from his past fought their way to the surface.

         It reminded him too much of how Lily had finally ended their friendship after he had called her the unthinkable, and he would do whatever he could to make that feeling go away.

         “Yes,” he said quietly as he stepped back, shocked from the explosive feelings of his careless youth coming back to him after all of these years of being repressed.

         The rage in Harry simmered as he confronted that absolution of finally knowing the truth.

         “That’s why he is always after me,” he assessed correctly – not even looking to Snape.

         He shook his head as he helped himself to the chair facing Snape’s desk and sat with head in his hands.

         All of the progress that he had made in the aftermath of Cedric’s tragedy felt like it was for nothing as he could feel the hopelessness wanting to return.

         Fortunately, however, his brain refused to go down that path once more and employed Occlumency to stave off another descent into isolation.

         Snape could only look at him and feel regret for every time that he had made Harry’s life harder because of a grudge that he had held against James, when he knew of what Harry would have to someday face.

         ‘How could I have made this worse?’ he asked himself, appalled at how he had failed Lily yet again.

         The silence continued for some time as both were lost in a world unto themselves; however, eventually Harry had calmed enough to realize that there were still more questions that need to be asked.

         “Who else knows?” was the first to leave his lips.

         Snape drew in a breath as he contemplated his options, knowing that everything would likely be revealed tonight.

         “Wouldn’t you rather discuss this with Sirius, or the Headmaster?” Snape inquired instead of answering Harry’s questions. Though, his intent wasn’t to get himself out of the hot seat; instead, he did doubt that he was the best one to have this conversation with Harry.

         “Of course they know,” Harry snorted. “How could they not? Dumbledore was waiting until I learned Occlumency and Sirius, well, I guess it’s not important that he knew. I think he wanted to tell me but I don’t think he wanted to put anything else on me.”

         Harry was working through this out loud and talking to himself more than needing a confirmation from Snape. And he just couldn’t fault Sirius for withholding this, the man had been through hell just watching him deal with Cedric – Harry knew that he would have withheld this forever if he could have. Harry had seen it in his eyes during their weekly dinners, now that he looked back on it.

         “Who else knows? McGonagall?” Harry pressed Snape once he was finished thinking about Sirius.

         Severus gave a brief nod, holding back further explanation because a part of him, though ashamed with himself and afraid of where this conversation could head, was amazed of how Harry was working through this and asking all of the right questions.

         And Harry kept putting all of the pieces together, until he reached some very heavy realizations.

         He stood up from the chair, finding that he could no longer sit in one place until he had more answers.

         “Did my parents know?” Harry asked, inadvertently causing a pain in Severus’ heart as he remembered finding Lily dead in the house and holding her while her body was still warm. He would never escape the guilt of knowing that he had been the one to condemn her to that fate.

         “They were aware,” Snape confirmed in an unusual tone that Harry had never heard before from the man, almost as if he were morose – which didn’t sound right on him. But he had other things to think about and so moved on.

         “And so that explains why they went into hiding,” Harry again answered his own question, but in the process only discovered new ones to be asked.

         The main question about what exactly the prophecy said was something that Harry was saving for last, knowing that he would come to it eventually but also realizing that he was quite apprehensive about hearing what it explicitly said or stated. He hardly thought it said that Voldemort would definitely kill him – but there was always that chance.

         “If they went into hiding, and Voldemort has been seemingly after me my whole life, then he must have known too.”

         Harry stopped pacing and turned to look directly at Snape.

         “How did he find out? How did anyone find out? Who made the prophecy?”

         Of everything that Snape had ever faced – including being under the scrutiny of the Dark Lord – this was by far the hardest time he had ever had in keeping it together and he opened his mouth to respond but no sound came out.

         “Don’t tell me it was Trelawney?” Harry said suddenly remembering Dumbledore confirming that she had made one other prophecy after the events of his third year.

         Snape nodded his head again, even more amazed at Harry’s incredible mind – and yet he found himself wishing that Harry wasn’t putting all of this together so quickly.

         And now Harry knew how Dumbledore had found out about it, but it still didn’t explain how Voldemort came to hear of its existence. Something vital was missing that connected the two events, and Harry was beginning to suspect by the odd behavior of the man in front of him that he knew something about it.

         A cold sense of dread began to form in Harry’s stomach as he thought back to his past conversation with Snape. Harry’s mastery of Occlumency had not only allowed him to function again after the pain of losing Cedric, but it had helped him to organize his mind and assist his problem-solving abilities.

         “How did Voldemort find out,” Harry asked again in a sharper tone? He was so close to knowing the truth that time seemed to slow around him.

         ‘This is it,’ Snape thought. The moment had come where he had to atone for his sins from the one person still alive that had been impacted by them the most.

         “I overheard part of the conversation between Trelawney and Dumbledore,” Snape answered in a low and hollow voice. He wasn’t able to meet Harry’s eyes.

         “You were on his side,” Harry’s voice cracked, wanting to remember all of the anger that he had ever felt for the man but finding that it just wasn’t there anymore.

         “You told him,” echoed silently off the walls as tears began to stain Harry’s cheek.

         “That was what you did, the thing that you regret, isn’t it?” he asked as he backed into a wall and slid down. Tears were freely flowing down his cheeks now.

         “Only the lines that I knew,” Snape said, hanging his head in shame.

         Harry now knew why he was having trouble being angry with the man, even though he wanted to be – because part of him had already forgiven him when they had last talked.

         Harry knew the man was truly sorry for what he had done. Before Occlumency, Harry could have imagined trying to shoot spells off at the man in a blinding rage. However, in mastering Occlumency, one becomes accustomed to going over the information that is more readily available in your mind. It tended to make people more logical and less prone to emotional outbursts. That was certainly true for Harry and one of the reasons he had adjusted to life after Cedric.

         And a large part of it was that he was just too tired to hate the man who Harry could see cracks beginning to form in his usual façade that had to have been a defense mechanism.

         “Is that why you changed sides?” Harry asked in a quiet but pointed manner, idly wondering if this was what Dumbledore had always been referring to when he had given his reasons for trusting the man so absolutely.

         Snape’s exterior unraveled even more and his face turned as white as Harry had ever seen it. He didn’t need to see anything else to know that Snape was forever against Voldemort and truly sorry for his role in shaping his own future.

         “What did the prophecy say?” Harry said after some time, looking up at Snape who was now using the desk to help him remain standing. He had been waiting at any moment for Harry’s outburst and a part of him just wanted to let it happen. Snape almost wanted to be punished for what he had done.

         Snape regained some measure of his former self; enough to meet Harry’s oddly calm eyes.

         “I only know the first few lines; I believe that only Dumbledore knows it in full, while the others are only aware of its existence.”

         “So Voldemort doesn’t know the full thing?”

         Snape was starting to worry that Harry was taking this too well, but correctly reasoned that he had just accepted what fate had always been trying to tell him, and that deep down Harry ultimately wasn’t that surprised to learn any of this.

         In fact, it was strangely comforting in knowing that every odd and horrible thing that happened in your life had a reason. At least now he knew, truly, what he was up against and what had always been hovering over him.

         Just then, and surprisingly fortuitous, a knock sounded at the door.

         It took a few seconds for Snape to get his bearings before opening the door.

         “Headmaster, Mr. Black,” Snape indicated aloud, realizing that Harry was hidden from view by the open door but wanting to see what they wanted first.

         Albus peered at the man with a curious expression behind his half-moon spectacles, while Sirius was anxious to begin scouring the castle for his godson.

         “Minerva has reason to believe that Harry has uncovered a few things and has yet to return to Gryffindor. Seeing as it is past curfew, we are concerned for his well-being and would like to find him.”

         Snape opened the door wider and let them in. Sirius was confused at first until he saw that Harry was there, sitting against the wall and staring at the group. But then he became even more confused at why Harry was here in the first place; however, that thought was put on hold as he went over to his godson – relieved that he was in one piece.

         “Harry, are you alright?” He crouched down in front of him and put his hands on Harry’s shoulders.

         Harry nodded as Dumbledore, in one of his more colorful robes, entered the room and Snape closed the door behind him.

         “I know about the prophecy,” he replied, looking Sirius right in the eye and watching his face morph from one heavy emotion to the next.

         “In fact, Snape was just helping to clarify a few things,” he said and looked to Dumbledore pointedly.

         “I would like to hear it in full,” Harry said in an even tone that demonstrated to everyone that he was facing the world as an adult wizard – even if he was a few years short of the designated age.

         “Sirius looked around, going from Harry to Snape, where his eyes lingered for a few additional seconds before turning to Dumbledore.”

         “That is quite sensitive information, Harry. Are you sure you are ready?”

         Surprisingly, Snape answered him.

         “He knows _everything_ else headmaster,” Snape explained, giving Albus his vote of confidence that it was high time that he be told.

         Albus raised his eyebrow in response. He would have expected Harry to be in a different state than the one that he found him in upon learning that Snape was the reason his parents were dead.

         “Is that so?” Albus mused.

         When he had informed Harry that he had information to tell him after he had mastered Occlumency, he thought that he had bought himself more time. It wasn’t that he wanted to withhold the information from him – but it was vital, in his mind, to keep this close to his chest. And a part of him was worried about how Harry would view him once he knew everything about the prophecy, leaving Albus with the task of still informing him about Horcruxes – which would be paramount to Voldemort’s defeat.

         But seeing as that now he really didn’t have much of a choice since Sirius could just take Harry to the Hall of Prophecy for him to hear it for himself, he gave in.

         “Very well, but keep it to yourself.”

         He waited until the group nodded, then added, “I assume that you will tell your friends?”

         It was obvious that he was talking to Harry about Ron and Hermione, but oddly, the first name that popped into Harry’s brain was Charlie.

         Just the same, Harry nodded anyway – he couldn’t see how he could keep that kind of information from those who had stuck by him for all these years.

         Dumbledore thought a moment, seeing how this could eventually turn into his favor and nodded his head once more.

         Then he moved the tip of his wand to his head and drew forth a shimmering blue strand that danced before them all and then started to take shape.

         A ghostly, miniature version of Trelawney rose before them and uttered the prophecy in a raspy voice.

 

         " _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... for either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..._ "

 

        

* * *

 

         Harry positioned himself more comfortably in the last compartment on the Hogwarts Express as Hermione and Ron went to start their Prefect rounds. In the week since he had learned about the prophecy and everything else that had followed, it was nice to just have some time to himself.

         Out of everyone there, Sirius had reacted the worst to hearing about the prophecy in full and had insisted that Harry spend each evening with him. He was afraid that Harry wasn’t taking the news well as he seemed so well-adjusted; when in reality it was Sirius that wasn’t taking the news well. Though he had known that a prophecy had existed, hearing the exact words had pushed him over the edge and he was afraid that he wouldn’t be able to protect Harry.

         For Harry, it was almost a relief to finally be in the know for once about things. He still had plenty of questions about everything – but he at least knew the reason that had dictated his life from before he had even been born.

         Hermione and Ron hadn’t really known how to react to the news once Harry had told them – but as he expected – it didn’t push them away. If anything, it cemented the bond between them even more and he was further comforted by them sticking by his side.

         Before he had told them he wondered if it was even their burden to deal with it and had half-entertained the idea of telling them that they would be better off not getting involved with him in order to protect them. But he had pushed that idea aside as it wasn’t respectful to them.

         His friends had battled with him up until this point and they knew what they were getting into and what was at risk and he had left it for them to decide.

         Just thinking about having people like that in his life was one of the reasons that he suspected had allowed him to keep it together this past week, along with Charlie and Occlumency.

         Harry smiled and positioned himself to be comfortable for the long ride and stretched out his legs on the seat across from him. Sirius had wanted him to return to Grimmauld Place with him but Harry felt like it was best to have some sort of normalcy in his life and wanted to spend the extra time with his friends. He felt like he had spent so much time dealing with Cedric by himself that he didn’t want to isolate himself anymore than he could help it. And that meant taking the train – even if he had to wait for Ron and Hermione to finish their Prefect rounds.

         But even that gave him time to get himself prepared for the holidays. Charlie had written back to Harry in record time and though he had read his letter many times previously, Harry pulled it out again and went through it one more time. He was drawn to anything that gave him a momentary pause from his troubles and his communications with Charlie was certainly something that did that.

           

_Harry,_

_Of course I will stop by over Christmas, though I will also see you at the Burrow as well. Ron told me that you plan on staying for a few days. I look forward to it and would be glad to share my OWL experience with you._

_How did your meeting with old McGonagall go? I thought she was really helpful when I mentioned what I was interested in and she took it seriously and helped me get the internship that ultimately led me to Romania. I know she can a bit stiff, but she does care about her lions._

_I think you would fit right in at the Department of Mysteries or in the DMLE or something else that maybe you haven’t thought of yet. There is always time to change your mind (as long as you have the requisite OWLS and NEWTs)._

_Harry – it makes me really happy to know that I am helping you through this. I can’t tell you how I wished I had something like that to help me along. I know it doesn’t make it all go away, but really anything that makes it more bearable is a gift from Merlin! Just don’t feel like you need to take all of my suggestions because different things work for different people (and I am no expert in mind healing)._

_Ron has sounded a lot better in his letters to me. You would never know how much he worries about you or Hermione – or anyone that he cares about, really. He can be the thickest person at times but he means well and he really is someone that you want to have your back._

_I think you should take visiting Cedric one day at a time. Don’t give yourself any extra pressure. If you want to see him over break on a particular day – then go see him, and if you don’t or are worried about something, well then that is okay too. I think you are strong in many ways and only you will know how seeing him will be – I am always available if you want to talk about it or need someone to take you. But again, don’t decide on that right now. Take it as it comes._

_But whatever you do, don’t blame yourself! Seriously, the blame lays on the Dementor, and no one else. I know that is hard to get – but if anyone knows about that sort of thing, I do._

_And when I visit Geoff’s grave, which took me some time to get around to that FYI, I don’t apologize for anything. At least, I don’t anymore because I know that guilt would only make it worse and harder to deal with. Besides, he wouldn’t blame me and would likely come back to kick my arse if he knew that I did!_

_Your life is unusual, I agree, and if you want to talk about it – again, I would be more than happy to if it helps you. I wonder what else you have to tell me that I don’t already know. Ron doesn’t exactly keep his mouth shut about the year when he comes home during the summer. Some of the things he has told me I disregarded as fanciful tales that couldn’t possible be true… but now I’m not so sure, especially with the events of what happened to Ginny (which I’m still not sure about what exactly happened)._

_Just one thing now that I am thinking about it: don’t worry about me breaking your confidence. What you tell me I will assume stays between us. Deal? And perhaps it would be good if you did the same, though I am pretty open about my life except that I still find it hard to talk about Geoff with certain people. You of course, are not one of them. It is weird that we barely know each other and yet write this frankly, but then again, perhaps we sometimes shouldn’t question everything and go with it._

_For example, I hardly spoke to anyone about my sexuality, even now I haven’t really discussed it with my parents. They just accepted it and moved on but we never really talked about what I was feeling._

_I had some encounters with classmates at Hogwarts (first time I had Ogdens) and just went with it. I realized how good it felt and continued with that after Hogwarts. Though, it was a little different for me because it was so soon after You-Know-Who that people tended to go overboard with enjoying themselves and mostly turned a blind eye. I think it was easier to be different then – even if it was a few years ago. Though, I can’t say I have ever experienced much negativity in regards to being gay. It’s different for wizards and not like how it is viewed in the muggle world (though they do have great gay clubs if you like dancing – and when you are older)._

_In regards to Geoff, how about I hold off on that until I see you. I think writing about that would be harder than just telling you in person. Which is right around the corner!_

_I look forward to seeing you and will owl you some times that work and you can tell me what is good for you. It would be nice to have one-on-one time because you know we won’t get it if you visit the Burrow. (My mum will be too busy trying to feed you)._

_~ Charlie._

* * *

 

**Thoughts? My intent going forward is to focus on Harry/Charlie for a little while. I think that 5 th year and 6th year will be largely similar (aside from certain things that I won’t spoil).**


	17. Chapter 17

**Author's Note:** First, thank you for reading and reviewing. Second, this is short to just focus on Harry’s experience in St. Mungo’s. However, it is also coming with another chapter (which is why the inordinate length of time between my last post and this one).

            Also, since this chapter serves to put some finality into Harry’s dealing with Cedric, going forward he is going to have a different outlook on things and chapters will not be as heavy as they have been.

         **Standard disclaimer about not owning anything; I am so thankful for JKR and all that she did for us. She gave us one of the greatest gifts, and so many people have taken to this site and played brilliantly with her creation. We should have a JKR day and it should be a global holiday!**

 

* * *

 

         Harry walked alongside Sirius and Charlie as they made their way through an empty hall in the Janus Thickey Ward of St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. This was where they put long-term patients and some of them had in fact been here for many years. Oftentimes, the only way a patient was able to leave was if there had been a miraculous discovery that led to a cure for their ailment; otherwise, death was the more likely route.

         Since it was later in the day when they had finally arrived, visiting hours would be over in just about an hour. But Harry had wanted it that way; he didn’t want other people to be around. He thought that he would have a hard enough time just focusing on not chickening out to worry about running into other people, let alone meeting Mr. and Mrs. Diggory. What would he have said to them? What could he have said to them?

         As it was, the steps that he was taking grew smaller and smaller the closer he got to where Sirius was leading them since he had been here before.

         Harry couldn’t help but be apprehensive during his approach.

         This was the first time that he would be seeing Cedric’s body since it happened, and he wasn’t sure if he was really ready for it. True, he knew from his long talks with Charlie that this would help him get on with his life – but at the same time, he was worried that he would get over what had happened to Cedric. He was afraid that in letting Cedric go that he would forget about him. Or worse, become paralyzed again.

         It was all so overwhelming but Charlie assured him that this was the right thing for him to do and that he had people that were with him, supporting him. Above all, Charlie emphasized to Harry that he wasn’t going to do this alone.

         Thinking about it in that way was helpful. For he knew that he had to fully come to terms with what had happened, but Cedric had been his first romance and it was a very difficult thing to let go of.

         When they arrived at the room, Sirius went in first – more so to make sure that they were indeed alone or at the very least be able to give Harry a heads up if other people were there.

         While they waited, Charlie closed the distance between himself and Harry and hesitantly reached out and placed his hand on Harry’s shoulder.

        “You ready?” he asked with genuine concern sinning in his eyes.

         Harry didn’t trust his voice at this moment. He was afraid that if he opened his mouth to speak then he would lose the control that he currently had over his emotions.

         So he turned to look up into Charlie’s face and nodded.

         Harry could see everything that he was feeling reflected in Charlie’s eyes. It was a great help knowing that Charlie was one of the few people who really understood what he was going through. He didn’t know if he would have come so far without that support.

         Together they moved towards the entrance to the room just as Sirius returned to the hallway.

         “No one else is here,” he said gently.

         “You ready for this, pup?”

         Harry nodded again, though was able to muster the courage to speak.

         “Can I have a few minutes alone?” he asked in a quiet voice.

         “Sure, pup. Take as long as you need.” Sirius was able to get out amidst the flurry of emotions that he was dealing with at seeing his Godson have to deal with all of this and still find the strength to keep putting one foot in front of the other. He was so proud of him that his heart was breaking.

         Harry walked into the room and left Charlie and his Godfather to close the door to give him some privacy. While they waited, the two leaned up against the wall – each lost in their own thoughts.

         With the door closed, Harry slowly walked towards the bed that was against the far wall and underneath the window. His first thought was how similar everything looked to the hospital wing at Hogwarts, where things really started to develop between them.

         Just that very thought was enough to break the control that he had over his emotions, and tears began to spill down his cheeks.

         Harry made it to the bed and saw Cedric lying there. But he knew at once that it wasn’t really Cedric. For one thing, Cedric looked different. Sirius had warned him that patients often lose muscle mass very quickly when confined to long periods of inaction, such as being in a coma.

         But that wasn’t what Harry had first noticed about Cedric’s changed appearance, for none of the spark that made him Cedric was there. There was no light or life in any of his features besides the slow, rhythmic rise and fall of his chest.

         “I’m sorry,” Harry whispered. “I should have been quicker – or it should have been me. I should be the one in your place.”

         The one piece of advice that Charlie had given him over and over again was that while it was normal to blame yourself and have survivor’s guilt, it often never was the actual case. And the older Weasley had reiterated that to him but warned him to be prepared to feel that the hardest in his presence.

         And boy was he right.

         All Harry wanted to do was to throw himself onto Cedric’s supine form and take his place. But that little voice that had been Charlie’s, which had started out small, kept getting bigger and bigger and it allowed Harry to keep his wits about him.

         Sure, this was one of the worst moments of his life; seeing his former boyfriend cut down before he had ever really had a chance to live.

         Former, that word really stuck to Harry. Thinking about how there would really never be a future for them was something that he had known – but now he was forced to come to terms with its truth.

         Suddenly, Harry felt like he needed to sit down because he no longer trusted his legs to hold him. But instead of the chair, which looked to be uncomfortable, Harry chose to sit on Cedric’s bed and wasn’t even thinking as he reached out for his hand.

         It was warmer than Harry had expected to be – Cedric’s blood was still pumping and Harry could feel his pulse if he focused hard enough.

         His fingers tightened in response to feeling the life that was still keeping Cedric alive when, suddenly, he was back in the graveyard after having just seen his mum.

         Time slowed as Harry focused on the scene before him. He had come to awareness just as Pettigrew had taken some of Cedric’s blood – the life force of a magical being – and used it in part to resurrect the Dark Lord to a new body.

         From what Harry had read in one of the many books that had kept his thoughts on other things, he found himself becoming angry that a part of Cedric now lived in the person that he was destined to either kill or be killed by.

         Just thinking about that caused Harry to come back to the present, red with anger.

         “Why can’t that part of you that lives in him come back!” he said in a hopeless rage before thinking over that statement.

         Not many people, besides himself and Dumbledore, were aware of everything that had happened that night. What if, and it was a very big what if, that part of Cedric that had gone into the Dark Lord could be reversed?

         Harry’s heart was beating quickly now; even though he was contemplating what seemed to be impossible. However, ever since he had come to the wizarding world he had seen the impossible become possible every single day. How was this any different? And for the first time in a very long time, Harry was filled with a sense of hope that this awful situation could be fixed.

         And then it came quickly crashing down. If that had been possible, Dumbledore would have suggested it. Right?

         The more that he thought about it, the more that he became certain that it just wasn’t possible at all. For one thing, Harry didn’t know that much about the spell that Voldemort had used or the true nature of a wizard’s blood; he just knew that it was important. Besides, he didn’t actually think that a part of Cedric’s soul now lived within his sworn enemy. It had just been an erratic thought that had given him hope; wishful thinking some might call it.

         However, the thought that any part of Cedric lived within the Dark Lord was unacceptable to him. Even without the prophecy, Harry had more than enough reason to make sure that whatever part of Cedric now resided in that unholy asshat was set free.

         And it might not have been the same feeling of hope that had coursed through his veins when thinking that he could have transferred a part of Cedric’s soul back – but it was enough to make him one-hundred percent glad that he had visited Cedric.

         “I will make sure he is defeated, Ced,” Harry said with a quiet determination. To add to what he had just said, Harry squeezed Cedric’s hand, just on the offhand chance that buried deep down in the body before him, that Cedric could hear what Harry was saying.

         “I will defeat him.”

         It was strange, that little statement was powerful. He had known about the prophecy and had processed it – but now he had something to fight for besides just himself. That thought emboldened him and gave him a new purpose besides just trying to survive. Going forward, Harry wanted to make sure that Voldemort didn’t do this to anyone else. If it was going to come down to the Dark Lord and him, well, then Harry was going to find a way to make sure that it was him that came out on top.

         After resolving to find a way to win, Harry remained by Cedric’s side for a few more minutes. He didn’t think that he could keep coming back here – he knew that it would have been too hard – but he did want to take a few moments to look at Cedric’s face, to cement what he was going to fight for in his mind.

         He noted the innocence of Cedric and how unfair it was that evil had been allowed to triumph in this situation. For he wasn’t a fool, Harry knew that the future was going to be difficult. There were going to be very dark times ahead and he wanted a way to be able to remember that he had a very good reason for never giving up, should the future ever get to that point.

         When he was finished memorizing the way that Cedric looked now, compared to what he had looked like when he had been so full of life the last time they had kissed, Harry started to pull his hand away from Cedric’s.

         However, the Claddagh ring that Cedric had given him on his birthday got caught against Cedric’s wristband. For the first time in a while, Harry looked down at it.

         The heart was still pointed inward, still proclaiming that Harry belonged to someone. That realization had made this all the more poignant.

         Harry didn’t belong to Cedric anymore because Cedric wasn’t able to claim him. But instead of getting morose at the thought, Harry finally was at a place where he could say that it was over. Harry was finally in a position where he could let Cedric go.

         And as a single tear spilled again onto his cheek, he moved to turn the ring in the other direction with the heart pointing out. Now it didn’t mean that he was actively looking for something, but it was an important step for him in realizing that his future, if it involved someone else at all, wasn’t going to be with Cedric. Though, the ring would stay with him at all times because it would help him to remember Cedric and what he was fighting for.

         “Goodbye, Cedric,” Harry said with as much feeling as he had ever felt. “I won’t forget you.”

         Then he walked towards the door, feeling better about this than he had thought that he would.

         Harry opened the door and met Charlie and Sirius in the hallway. Both had been talking quietly from on the floor and had stood up immediately to greet Harry.

         “How are you doing, pup?” Sirius asked, concerned.

         “Better than I thought,” Harry said honestly. There was a strength in his voice that helped make it believable.

         “I’m glad I came; it was time.” He said as he grabbed his jacket from Sirius’ hands and made to put it on as he started walking in the reverse direction that they had come in.

         When Harry was out of eavesdrop, Sirius turned to Charlie as they started walking slowly behind Harry.

         “What are your thoughts?” He asked. All he knew was that Charlie had been through something similar, and that he was helping his Godson, so he was interested in thinking what the young redhead thought about all of this.

         However, the answer was in Charlie’s eyes, but he responded to Sirius anyway.

         “He finally made peace with what happened.”

         “Hmmm,” Sirius nodded. As each day passed that he was blessed to be Harry’s Godfather, he was more amazed at what Lily and James had created. For even after all these years, he was still not over their deaths.

 

* * *

 

         **Let me know what you think! Again, many ways to go about this – but I chose to go with something I felt a stronger connection with.**

**Hope you enjoy the next chapter too!**


	18. Chapter 18

**Author's Note:** First, thank you for reading and reviewing. Second, let’s get right to it

         **Standard disclaimer about not owning anything; I am so thankful for JKR and all that she did for us. She gave us one of the greatest gifts, and so many people have taken to this site and played brilliantly with her creation. We should have a JKR day and it should be a global holiday!**

 

* * *

 

         Harry returned to Hogwarts a different person, which was in large part because he had a completely different mindset. No longer was he bearing the entire weight of his past and carrying the guilt of things that he may have or may not have done correctly.

         True, visiting Cedric had been difficult, but he was glad that he had let Charlie talk him into going. He needed the closure of putting what happened behind him and he was subsequently filled with a new determination going forward. Not only was Harry determined to beat Voldemort and avenge what had happened to Cedric, but he wanted to make sure that whatever little part of Cedric that Voldemort had used to gain a new body was not subjected to experience the horrors that that man would undoubtedly commit.

         The whole ordeal of visiting St. Mungo’s also had brought him closer to both Sirius and Charlie. Harry was long overdue to reconnect with his Godfather and their new relationship emboldened him even further.

         And his growing connection with Charlie was, well, Harry wasn’t quite sure what they were becoming. It was obvious that he was attracted to the man but Charlie was a great deal older than he was, at least at this stage where a person grew very rapidly during the formative years that Harry currently found himself in.

         But he couldn’t deny just how easy it was to be in his presence and he found himself thinking about things to tell Charlie in his next letter or the sensation of having the man’s hand on his shoulder – and what that did to him when he was alone late at night. It was all very comforting to him while he was on the mend of the tragedy that had befallen Cedric.

         However, it was his history with Cedric that made his growing friendship with Charlie just a little bit uncomfortable. It was slightly awkward using someone like Charlie to get over his last boyfriend while at the same time he was beginning to realize that maybe he was starting to fancy Charlie just a little bit.

         In the future, if something did end up happening between Charlie and him, would that be okay? How long was appropriate to wait before he moved on?

         But Harry was getting ahead of himself with these thoughts as he waited for the other students to arrive. He had taken Sirius up on his offer to apparate directly to Hogwarts after the winter Holiday and was now waiting in the Great Hall.

         It was much too soon for him to be thinking about anything happening with Charlie. And Harry had said as much when they had talked before they had gone to see Cedric: Harry needed a friend right now and just a friend. Never mind the age difference.

         Besides, Harry wasn’t sure that dating anyone was in the cards as long as Voldemort still needed to be taken care of. How could he subject someone to the increased risk that would come with that; he couldn’t have another Cedric on his hands. It would kill him.

         But, he knew that there would always be risks. As much as he would like to do this alone, he knew that he would need people with him all the way until the end. For one thing, Ron and Hermione would be damn near impossible to convince that he was going to do any of this alone – and he didn’t want to think about how stubborn Sirius would be. They knew what was at stake and what the risks were and Harry would just have to let other people make their own informed decisions if they wanted to be a part of it.

         Anyways, Harry shook his head to clear his thoughts. He really was getting ahead of himself with this thought process. The only thing that he knew for certain was that one day he would have to face Voldemort and that he needed to be as prepared for that confrontation as possible.

         He just couldn’t spend his time worrying about anything else and decided that he could only deal with things as they came. So, whether he started dating someone else in the future or worrying about letting his friends put themselves in known or unknown danger, Harry would cross that bridge when he came to it.

         Even as Harry relaxed at the Gryffindor Table as a result of making that decision, he felt a little lighter inside. Not as weighed down as he had been before. It also happened to coincide with the arrival of the other students who burst through the large and ornately carved doors to the Great Hall and started to take their places at their respective house tables.

         Arriving in the middle of the large group were Ron and Hermione, who sat down on either side of him.

         “Hello Harry,” Hermione reached out to hug him.

         “Hermione,” Harry responded into her bushy hair when she had her arms around him.

         Ron was simply content to tap Harry lightly on the shoulder.

         “Mate,” he remarked while eyeing his empty plate.

         Harry’s demeanor was noticeably improved in the presence of his friends. He really did feel quite lucky to have them by his side.

         Soon, the food appeared and they all hungrily dug in as they made meaningless side-chatter since they were in public. Their talks about the prophecy and how they were going to plan for that would have to wait until they were alone.

         When they were finished, Dumbledore had very little to say about the start of the second half of the year and everyone was soon dismissed back to their houses.

         Unlike the first day of the year, in which the fifth-year Prefects were needed to show everyone back to their dorms for the first time, this time it was tradition for the seventh-year Prefects to do so.

         However, Harry had his Marauder’s Map and invisibility cloak with him and he quietly asked his friends if they wanted to sneak away to the Chamber of Secrets and talk about things.

         The trio waited behind the Gryffindor mass that headed up the various staircases and were lingering just slowly enough that no one noticed them fall off the back of the second floor.

         It was easy for them to navigate the rest of the way to their destination unseen. Once inside the chamber, they congregated again by the Basilisk.

         “That reminds me,” Hermione started as she felt the skin of the monstrous creature again.

         “Have you decided what you wanted to do with all of this?” She waved her arms gesturing at the beast’s form.

         Harry moved to walk along the Basilisk.

         “I definitely want to see if we can use its skin to make vests and whatnot, that’s a definite.”

         Both Ron and Hermione nodded at Harry’s choice. In fact, they agreed wholeheartedly with his decision as they had already discussed it the first time they had all ventured down here.

         “And then I don’t know how best to go about it, but it would be useful to sell some of it to buy training supplies or fund our side of things. Who knows what provisions we may need.”

         Hermione got a weird glint in her eye.

         “I guess you were right about the next horrible situation that we would fall into.”

         Her voice had a certain sadness to it, like she felt bad that Harry had been right about their future.

         Harry grimaced just a little, but shrugged it off. He would have liked to have been wrong too but at least he knew that they knew what they were getting into.

         “But you are right,” she said in a stronger voice.

         “We should use this to our advantage and make vests, sell some of the parts, and then see what types of potions would be most useful that we could make ourselves.”

         “Hmm, let’s see,” Ron said sardonically. “Who do we know that is a world-renowned Potion’s Master and would most likely know how things are sold on the black market? That’s a tough a one,” he finished to the amusement of both Harry and Hermione.

         Ron’s humor tended to be underappreciated.

         “He would be a good person to ask, and he has seemed to taking a liking to you Harry. Well, maybe not a liking as tolerating better than most people he comes into contact with.” Hermione added.

         Harry thought it was a safe bet. Snape and him had come to an understanding this year on several various topics. Aside from the conversation they had had over his mum, the man had been the first to finally acknowledge that a prophecy existed between himself and the Dark Lord.

         “I’ll ask him if he can help us,” Harry agreed aloud. “Of course, it may sweeten the deal if we pay him in ingredients.”

         “I can just see his face now,” Ron scoffed before doing a reasonable impression of Snape’s surprised face by raising one of his eyebrows.

         Hermione rolled her eyes at their antics and watched as they continued trying to see who did a better Snape impression. Normally she would not approve of mocking a teacher in any way, shape, or form; however, she was mostly just relieved that they were having this moment together. She had been worried in the beginning of the summer if Harry would ever come out of this and that these moments would never happen again.

         But eventually, they all settled down and Ron was able to go over some of his ideas that they could use the space for once the Basilisk was fully removed.

         He surprised both of them with a detailed and – in Hermione’s opinion – a very well thought out and executed plan.

         “Ronald, this is really great,” Hermione proclaimed when Ron had finished speaking.

         She had noticed him more and more ever since the beginning of the year and found herself being drawn into to the man that he was fast becoming.

         “The detail is quite good, and you even started putting together a curriculum.” She found that her face was getting redder as she was verging on gushing.

         “Yeah, well, I thought, you see,” Ron stuttered. He hadn’t gotten used to Hermione looking at him in this new and respected manner; subsequently, he really didn’t know how to respond to it. Also, there was the small little matter that he had been noticing her more and more as well.

         Harry had to stifle a laugh as he watched all of this unfold in front of him. His friends were adorable idiots and he looked forward to when they finally were able to acknowledge their feelings for one another.

         “Anyways,” Harry moved on, causing the pair to look away from each other with blushed smiles.

         “I think we should add in some physical stuff as well. My reflexes from Quidditch are good and have certainly come in handy but I think we should improve our stamina. We may also even want to learn how to use some weapons. That incident with Ron’s broken wand from second year always had me wondering what a witch or wizard would do without theirs in a fight.”

         “Hmm,” Hermione thought about Harry’s suggestion.

         “That is a great idea! Since we aren’t really taught how to even duel, it would certainly improve our fighting capabilities even more.”

         Ron was about to join in when Hermione continued and directed her comment at Harry.

         “And stop flinching, Harry. We said that we are by your side in this like we have been by your side since the beginning. I may not like that all of this that is happening but running from it will not solve our problem. So don’t feel guilty that Ron and I know full well what we are getting into. I can see that look in your eye Harry Potter and I know what you are thinking.”

         She said it all very matter-of-factly, and there was no chance that Harry would be able to do anything other than agree with her. Hermione was right, as usual.

         So he simply nodded and then smiled meekly at them and then Ron waited for the air to settle briefly before he chimed in with what he had been planning on saying.

         “And maybe we could increase our muscle mass as well. If we are without our wands, it may get physical and we should learn how to use our body weight.”

         Both Harry and Hermione agreed with that, and they felt better about having a plan in place to prepare themselves; it helped to take the edge off knowing that they were doing something proactive.

         But then the atmosphere calmed somewhat and they discussed how their breaks had gone. Like usual, Hermione and her parents had gone to France for the Holidays.

         She described how they had wandered into a small wizarding section in Paris or - as Ron and Harry knew was more likely to have happened – had known it in advance and had led her parents there.

         At any rate, it was always interesting to hear about other magical communities and how they were. Also, she always made sure to bring them back little treats, which both Ron and Harry appreciated as she handed them some small chocolates.

         They were particularly delicious and changed their flavor the closer that one got to the center.

         The group snacked on these as they finished discussing what they had done for the Holidays.

         As they were walking back to their dorms, Harry filled them in on his visit to see Cedric. He had kept it light – or as light as he could make such a serious topic – but he didn’t want to drag it out right now. Though, he had wanted to tell them since they had been by his side since the beginning.

         Both were aware of how difficult the experience must have been for Harry but neither tried pushing Harry for more information than he seemed comfortable sharing. They knew that he would open up to them fully at his own pace.

         Still, Hermione wanted to at least make sure that he wasn’t in a bad place because of the experience.

         “How do you feel now?” she asked while they waited for Harry to call the stairs again to begin their ascent upwards towards Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom.

         “Better than I thought I would,” he said honestly.

         “I’m not as weighed down by it anymore. I still feel like I could have done more – and I don’t think that that feeling with ever go away – but I am able to look past it easier now. It also is giving me something concrete to fight for: I don’t want anyone to experience what I did. We will beat Voldemort,” he finished with a determined hopefulness that made Ron and Hermione become not as uncomfortable with hearing that name.

         It was true; they were fighting for something and it was important.

         “Just know that if you need anything mate, we are here for you.” Ron added.

         “I know,” Harry replied as they entered the bathroom and quietly made their way back to Gryffindor Tower just as curfew started.

 

* * *

 

         The next day marked the beginning of term and Harry was planning on inquiring with Severus about the possibility of him helping them deal with the Basilisk’s remains.

         However, first Harry needed to get through his other classes, which meant surviving Defense Against the Dark Arts.

         Normally, Harry managed to get through that class by retreating inside of his mind since it was blatantly obvious that Umbridge had it out for him. It wasn’t like he was missing anything either because the hag never taught anything. Nor was it worthwhile to read that book that she kept having them read to cover up her inadequacies as a teacher.

         At certain times, Harry almost wished that Lockhart was back, and that was saying something.

         But Umbridge seemed especially sour today as she had seemingly devised a new method to trying to get under Harry’s skin. No longer was she content with silence from her class while they read; now she seemed quite interested in calling on students to check up on their progress.

         And she had started with Harry.

         “Now class, for the second half of the year, we will spend more time preparing for your OWLs. As such, I will be asking questions from time to time to make sure that you can answer them with the same detail that will be required for your exams.”

         “Let’s see,” she continued in her sickly sweet voice while her eyes remained fixed on Harry in a predatory manner.

         Even when he was only halfway inside of his mindscape, he was still able to follow along with what was going on in the real world. It just made him able to tolerate her better. Now though, he just knew that he wouldn’t be able to keep his head down to stay out of further trouble with this woman if this was the way that she was going to handle things.

         But before he could think of a way out of this, she decided who she was going to start with.

         “Mr. Potter,” she said with pure, unadulterated glee.

         Harry did his best to turn in her general direction so that she would think that he was acknowledging her without having to look directly at her.

         Everyone in the classroom was watching with baited breath, especially Draco Malfoy who couldn’t quite keep the grin off his face at the prospect that Harry was going to get into trouble or made to feel uncomfortable. It was so much easier for him to have someone else do his job for him.

         “I was wondering if you could describe to me the proper way to deal with a Dementor,” she said in an innocent manner.

         Hermione was completely flabbergasted and her cheeks started to get red as her head filled with angry things that she would have liked to yell to that despicable hag.

         She was just about to get to the point of unleashing a furious diatribe when the soft voice of Harry responded.

         “A Patronus Charm is the only thing effective against them.”

         Ron was grabbing a hold of his desk with unbridled fury at her brazen disregard for what had happened to his friend.

         “Quite right,” she said with a Cheshire-like smile.

         Harry though wasn’t as bothered as he should have been by the question. Seeing Cedric over the Holiday had allowed him to reach a healthy place – or as healthy as a place as he could. Besides, he had to go up against Voldemort – so he supposed that he aught to get used to her evil taunts in preparation for what would no doubt happen with Voldemort.

        After that, Umbridge moved onto other students, not wanting to be too obvious that she regarded Harry as an awful little child. She had been content with how deflated he had seemed when he had responded to her question and was satisfied with things, for now.

         While Umbridge was busy interrogating the other child that she saw as stupid, Harry noticed Ron and Hermione barely keeping it together. He was touched, but didn’t want them to get all riled up on his behalf.

         He was lucky that Umbridge was berating some poor Gryffindor, whose mother she absolutely loathed, so that he could signal to them.

         They didn’t calm instantly but he really didn’t expect them too; however, they did become noticeable less irate and the rest of the class thankfully passed without any further incidents.

         Lunch followed and Harry and his friends sat at the end of their table, where he spent the entire hour sharing with them how he was able to tune Umbitch out. Of course, he had shared Occlumency with them before but he really pressed upon them the importance of learning the art for themselves.

         “Especially with what we are going to come up against in the future,” he finished. He knew that he had gotten his point across when he saw the hungry look of wanting to learn something new flash in Hermione’s eyes.

         And Ron, who had really grown into his role as a strategist, was nodding his head fervently in agreement.

         Once that was apparently settled, the trio headed down to the dungeons for their double Potions that would round out their day of classes.

         As usual, Harry went to join his partner Neville who was busing finalizing his notes for the class. Ever since Harry had mentioned that he might have had a slight learning disorder, he had not been so hard on himself when he didn’t immediately get something correct on the first go around.

         Also, Harry was trying to help him as best he could and together they were making notable progress. Subsequently, Neville’s performance in all of his classes – aside from Herbology, which was largely performance-based – had significantly improved.

         Plus, Harry’s seemingly improved relationship with Snape had led to the man not being so antagonistic towards the pair during class, which had only further allowed Neville to reach more and more of his potential with each passing class,

         Potions had actually become mildly enjoyable for the pair and they were one of the strongest groups and were consistently scoring at an E level.

         Today’s class was no exception and they were confident that they had earned another top-level grade. Neville had never thought he would be feeling this optimistic about his upcoming O.W.L.s , but he was becoming increasingly confident that he would pass a majority of his classes. And that would make his gran very proud.

         When the class was over, Harry took his time putting his supplies away as the class emptied and soon he was the only student left in the classroom.

         Snape was at his desk, peering with contempt at some of the more disastrous offerings that had been turned in, when Harry quietly approached.

         “Sir,” he started.

         Snape raised his head and peered at him, raising his eyebrow to indicate that Harry had permission to ask whatever question he wanted to.

         “I was wondering if you knew anything about acquiring or selling Basilisk parts,” he began as if he were asking Snape about something that was common and innocuous as poppy seeds.

         Snape stopped breathing for a fraction of a second as Harry’s inquest had caught him off guard.

         “Basilisk ingredients?” he reiterated. He had wanted to make sure that he had heard Harry correctly.

         “Yes, Professor,” Harry said with a small smirk. He would have been lying if he had said that he wasn’t finding some amusement in being able to unsettle the Potions Master.

         “You see, I stumbled across some parts,” he said slowly while bringing a few scales from his bag and depositing them on Snape’s desk.

         “And I was wondering if you knew how I could go about selling them, or even what potions they could be used in.”

         Snape’s mouth had parted slightly as he stared at one of the most expensive potion ingredients that money could buy.

         “I _may_ also have access to other parts as well,” he said in a controlled tone, not trusting his face to give way to the smile that wanted to show on his face.

         “How?!” Snape said in a very rare slip of decorum on his part.

         “And I would certainly be willing to part with some of what I have, as a courtesy to you, of course, for helping me out.”

         Snape nodded ever so slowly, more shocked by Harry’s offering than anything the Dark Lord had ever done in his presence. At least with the Dark Lord he had come to expect pain and torture, but this was something that he just could process. He had never thought he would be able to get his hands on such a rare and precious commodity without losing a body part in the process.

         “Thank you so much, Professor,” Harry said in a slightly exuberant manner. He then placed a large bolus of skin that they had cut from the night before in front of him, which made the man’s eyes widen comically. However, Harry had to stifle a laugh at the shock that crossed every inch of his face after he procured a small vile of venom from his satchel for the professor to keep for his troubles.

* * *

       

  **Let me know what you think!**


	19. Chapter 19

**Author's Note:** First, thank you for reading and reviewing. Second, this is for Alan Rickman. I loved his roles; they are some of my most favorite. Aside from his uncanny ability to bring Severus Snape to life – which SHOULD have won the man an Oscar – he was brilliant as Dr. Lazarus in _Galaxy Quest_ and Metatron in _Dogma_. And so… so many others.

 

            Also, for those also following Soul Magic, I had to start over. The fic was deleted (no idea why) and I’m going to edit and repost each chapter. Really bummed but can’t really do much else. I think it had something to do with the site issues this past weekend.

         **Standard disclaimer about not owning anything; I am so thankful for JKR and all that she did for us. She gave us one of the greatest gifts, and so many people have taken to this site and played brilliantly with her creation. We should have a JKR day and it should be a global holiday!**

* * *

 

         It took Severus several seconds to regain the use of his voice after being presented with such a rare commodity.

         Since he had first become a recognized Potions Master, Basilisk venom had been at the top of his list of ingredients that he desired to work with but never in his wildest dreams had entertained that such a thing would be possible. Really, any part of the Basilisk would have been a once in a lifetime opportunity to work with and he couldn’t quite believe that this was real life as he held a small vial of venom in his hands.

         Slowly, he became aware that Potter was still present and looking at him with an amused expression.

         “Where did you get this?” he said in an uncharacteristically stunned manner. Severus was normally much more put together than this.

         Harry continued to smile at him, enjoying the lack of condescending undertones and with the man who had made his very unpleasant during his first few years at Hogwarts. He took the opportunity to be a little cheeky.

         “Where do _you_ think I got this?” Harry replied, having too much fun watching Severus struggle with words. It was nice to be on the other side of things for once.

         Snape thought for a moment, not even bothered with Harry’s antics. He would have done practically anything for a vial of Basilisk venom.

         It didn’t take him long to narrow down his list of options. He highly doubted that Harry had bought some Basilisk parts because the price was so astronomical, and it wouldn’t have made sense for him to then turn around and sell it again.

         Which only meant that Harry must have come into contact with a Basilisk, and lived. True, he was a Parselmouth and thus could speak with snakes but Severus didn’t think that the gift of conversing with serpents would have helped much in that situation. It wasn’t like one could have politely asked such a powerful, magical creature to die.

         However, Harry always had a penchant for getting himself into the most unusual situations. In fact, he seemed to stumble upon a few of them every year.

         Following that train of thoughts, Snape arrived at the events of the boy’s second year. He had always remained skeptical of the explanation that Albus had given the staff about the chamber incident. However, over the years he had become used to Albus never revealing more than he intended to and keeping his secrets very close to him.

         It was infuriating sometimes but he supposed that was one of the prices he had paid for switching sides. He owed Albus a great deal for his second chance at life and did his best to accept the man’s oddities and unusual way of handling things. At least he wasn’t constantly being subjected to the Cruciatus Curse like service to Voldemort often entailed.

         Seeing the snakeskin on his desk only led him to conclude that the chamber had in fact existed and that a Basilisk was the horror that had slumbered within.

         Briefly, his stomach began to churn at the thought that such a deadly creature had been on the loose within the school. They were extremely fortunate that no one had died. Had Albus been aware? Or had he only known after the fact and didn’t want to worry anyone by saying what had really happened?

         Snape’s eyes darted to Harry. He looked the young man over, rationalizing that at some point the snake had to have been alive to cause the petrification of all those students. Mrs. Norris and Nearly-Headless Nick just didn’t factor into his thinking. But his brain couldn’t quite get passed the fact that Harry must have gone against it… and won, somehow.

         “The Chamber of Secrets,” Snape finally said.

         Harry nodded, his smile gone after watching Severus think over the dreadful circumstances to ultimately arrive at that conclusion. Sometimes Harry had trouble remembering just how close to death he had gotten in several situations.

         “Dumbledore never told you I take it?”

         Harry had always wondered if the other professors had been told.

         Severus shook his head.

         “Albus tells us only as much as he thinks we need to know.”

         “Story of my life,” Harry responded frankly.

         “Do you want to see it?” Harry then asked suddenly. He hadn’t been planning on showing the man, but once he said it he supposed that it would be easier for Snape to extract some of the ingredients to be sold himself.

         “Obviously,” Snape said, sounding a little bit more like his old self. Of course he wouldn’t pass up this opportunity.

         “Meet me outside Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom at nine then,” Harry said as he gathered his things and turned to head towards the Great Hall for supper.

         It would make more sense for them to be out and about together when no one else was able to spot them. And they would have more time; dinner was starting shortly.

         “The girls’ lavatory?” Snape called out after him.

         “It’s just where the entrance is,” Harry shrugged as he turned by the door. “I really can’t believe Dumbledore never said anything,” Harry then said in parting before he left.

         Severus had then sat down and then called for a house elf to bring him dinner since he wasn’t up to going to the Great Hall. What else had Albus been hiding from him? If he was going to risk his life for this side, he felt he should know more of the details. Even with Him back, Albus knew that his Occlumency was more than enough to keep the Dark Lord unaware. Severus could even keep Dumbledore out.

         Which made Snape wonder: did Albus really trust him or was he being used? It was difficult for him not to feel like a plaything, since the man was clearly using Harry as his weapon against Voldemort. Though, Severus began to muse if Albus was aware of just how independent Harry was becoming.

 

* * *

 

         After dinner, Harry filled in Ron and Hermione about his conversation with Snape and plan to take him into the chamber. Ron thought it was great that the man would be able to help them deal with the Basilisk and make use of its parts, while Hermione felt better about being in the chamber now that a teacher was aware of it. Of course she had also approved of Harry’s idea and then the trio had begun to discuss how else Snape could help them by answering some of their questions.

         So, while Hermione and Ron began their Prefect rounds for the evening, Harry headed to the second-floor lavatory that most students stayed away from because of the wailing of one, Moaning Myrtle.

         During the many times that Harry had ventured into the chamber this year he had come to an understanding with the ghost and she hardly ever bothered him as long as he spent a few minutes chatting with her before she would fly over to her favorite stall.

         Which Snape was appreciative of as he arrived just after Harry finished talking with her. Of course, he never actually said that to Harry; he just lifted an eyebrow as he waited for Harry to show him the entrance.

         Hearing Harry hiss in that language was something that he would never get used to, for it was hard for him to associate Lily’s son doing something so similar to the Dark Lord. It had always internally frightened the man when he had heard him hissing to his snakes, since pain for someone – or even death – was usually not that far behind.

         “Ready?” Harry posed after he had finished opening the entrance and asking for stairs.

         Snape could only nod his head. How had no one discovered this? For that matter, how did no one think to look in the bathroom where Moaning Myrtle had died? Everything suddenly became clear for Snape as he posited how she must have died by meeting the Basilisk’s eyes as she had been coming out of a stall, a stall that she now frequently cried in.

         Severus would have to rethink the amount of blind faith that he put in Albus. Well, it wasn’t blind so much as he was just becoming complacent with how the man conducted his business.

         As he followed Harry into the earth he began to become curious how Harry, and no doubt his friends, had figured all of this out.

         “How did you come to discover the entrance?” Snape asked once they reached the bottom of the stairs.

         Harry kept his lit wand in front of him as he continued to lead Snape over the rocks as he answered.

         “Eventually Ron and I realized that Myrtle had been the student who had died when the chamber had been opened previously, and then we wondered if she had simply never left the place where she had died. Once we saw the snake on the faucet, we knew and I opened it and then we jumped right in. In our haste, we didn’t think to ask for stairs.”

         Snape shook his head but then quickly had become distracted as they passed over the shed snakeskin; just how big was this thing?

         He soon had his answer as his eyes took in the size of the ancient beast that lied in the middle of the floor of the Chamber of Secrets. It had to be over seventy feet in length!

         “How…” he uttered. “How did you and Ron survive?”

         “Well, Ron was trapped in the tunnel as Lockhart had come with us.”

         Snape whipped his head around at that.

         “Lockhart? The man who now can’t remember his own name?”

         Harry laughed thinking about how ironic it had been for the man to end up in that state.

         “He liked to use memory charms; Dumbledore never told you?”

         Snape shook his head again.

         “It would seem he has left a lot of things out. He only said that Lockhart had had an accident. Obviously a back-fired memory charm of some kind but nothing more than that.”

         “What happened?” he asked, not quite believing this whole thing and looking at Harry very differently. Looking at the Boy Who Lived differently seemed to be a running theme for him this year.

         “Well, he became afraid and managed to get Ron’s wand, except that Ron had his old, broken wand and when he went to obliviate us, it hit him instead. However, the magic caused the ceiling to cave-in and Ron stayed with him and I went on alone.”

         “Then what happened?”

         “Well,” Harry started as he walked toward the Basilisk.

         “I saw Ginny Weasley lying on the ground; she was cold and I worried that it was too late. Then, Tom Riddle came and…” Harry stopped when he saw Severus’ face tighten just a little.

         Harry had been watching him closely, hoping that he would give something away.

         “Professor?”

         “Do you know who that is?” Severus’ dark eyes narrowed.

         “Voldemort,” he replied with a quick nod of his head.

         “Only it was what he looked like when he was at school. You see, Ginny had this diary that belonged to him and ‘given to her’ by Lucius Malfoy. She had been writing in it all year and it would possess her and make her open the chamber. Tom said that he was almost done draining off the last bit of her energy to come alive again.”

         In talking to Ron and Hermione earlier that night, they had discussed whether Snape would know what to make of this since it was something they couldn’t explain. Hermione had searched the library endlessly for something that would make sense of a person coming from a diary and able to do all the things that Riddle had done.

         And the brief look of discomfort that flashed through Severus’ features gave Harry an answer: Snape knew exactly what that diary had been.

         However, he finished his story about how he had then fought the Basilisk and defeated it with the sword of Godric Gryffindor and how Fawkes had saved him from the Basilisk’s bite.

         When that was done, he turned to Snape.

         “Do you know what the diary was?” he put forth cautiously.

         Snape closed his eyes and nodded. He sighed and then opened his black eyes to look at Harry clearly. By this time they had reached the snake’s body, but Snape was too busy thinking about Horcruxes to spend much time looking at the fortune directly in front of him. They would get more galleons out of this than they knew what to do with.

         “I guessed why the Dark Lord never truly died, of what he had done to gain immortality. I wasn’t completely sure until this past summer and after hearing about what you just said. But yes, I know why the Dark Lord didn’t die.”

         Harry looked at him expectantly.

         “I think that what you have just described was a Horcrux.”

         “A Horcrux?” Harry repeated.

         Snape then went onto explain how Horcruxes contained a bit of one’s soul and tied the rest of the person to the earth should the main form be harmed in any way.

         It was a lot to take in and they sat in silence for a few moments. During this time, Snape satisfied his curiosity and finally looked around the Basilisk, not being able to imagine himself going against it. He honestly had no idea how Harry hadn’t been killed.

         So now Harry knew why the Dark Lord had survived that night in Godric’s Hallow, even knew why the man had been there in the first place. Voldemort had thought that he was getting rid of the one threat to him.

         But all that Harry could think of was why the Prophecy seemed to think that he was the one that could destroy him. However, as he was rubbing his faded scar absentmindedly, he thought of something else.

         “My scar!” Harry voiced, causing Snape to look his way.

         “Could a Horcrux exist in a person?” All he could think of was how much better his mind had felt after the cemetery when he had woken up after seeing his mum.

         “I saw a piece of his soul,” he then exclaimed and told Severus about the black mass that had been next to his mum.

         “That was why I could go back, because he remained.”

         Harry now knew what had happened that night and Severus was very impressed with the young man that stood before him. Gone was the younger version of James Potter that he had forced himself to see and in his place was someone that Severus could easily see growing into a man that Lily would have been most proud of.

         They went back and forth after that, theorizing about whether Voldemort had made more Horcruxes. Ultimately they had come to the conclusion that he must have, for Severus recalled the whispers from Lucius who had talked about how the Dark Lord had gone further than anyone else in gaining immortality when he had been alive. He obviously hadn’t known what he was talking about since he had given the diary away but Snape now had a pretty good idea what the man had meant.

         He counted himself fortunate that Lucius spoke freely in his presence and often let slip a few things he had heard while serving the Dark Lord in his private chambers. Apparently towards the end, Voldemort had been unhinged with the revelation of the prophecy.

         Creating more than one Horcrux would certainly count as going further than anyone had on record, besting Herpo the Foul and even the person who had been mentioned in the footnote of _Secrets of the Darkest Art_ as finding redemption so as to recombine his soul. But how many was the question that was now in front of them.

         One thing they became certain of was that Dumbledore had to know about this as well, since Harry had gone onto explain how he had given the man the diary that had been pierced with a Basilisk’s fang.

         “Why are you confiding about this in me?” Severus then wondered aloud.

         His dark eyes were centered on the floor in front of him.

         It was a question that Harry had thought a great deal about recently, and he had found that he needed to trust someone capable and Snape seemed to be his best choice given their recent history.

         “A war is coming,” said Harry frankly.

         “I need to be prepared and I couldn’t think of anyone else that would know about all of this. It’s not like Dumbledore has been forthcoming with answers.”

         Snape remained silent while Harry talked, his eyes never leaving the tile they were focused on.

         “Anyways, I trust you. At least I want to trust you; I need to have someone on my side that can help me match him. And I know you have the same reservations about Dumbledore that I do.”

         Harry’s last statement wasn’t entirely true because he was only guessing on that part with everything that Snape had learned recently.

         “I think Dumbledore means well, Potter. If I had to take a guess it would be that he has led an opposition to Dark Magic for so long that he feels he has to do certain things alone. I think power has isolated the man.”

         It sure would explain how Severus had always been made to feel like he was close enough to be in on things, but not close enough to know everything that was going on.

         “I think he uses people as if they were chess pieces,” Harry commented.

         “I believe that is a fair assessment,” Snape said with his usual drawl.

         “But I don’t see why you took the chance on me, given our history.”

         “I just know you understand what we are fighting for. I know you regret what happened with my mum and I know you are against him. You, more than anyone with your history with him would be the right person.”

         “Your not worried that I would betray you? How can you be so certain I am on your side?”

         This was the one part Snape couldn’t get past. He didn’t see how Harry could so easily forget Snape’s treatment of him because he didn’t think there would ever come a day where he would forget James Potter.

         “I think you would have already killed me Professor; you have certainly had your chances.”

         “Also, I need to hope that there is some good in people. My life has been tragic but I haven’t given up. Even after Cedric,” which Harry had then needed to take a deep breath before continuing.

         “I don’t want that to happen to anyone else. Well, I know it will happen again to someone before the man is destroyed; but I want to save as many people from that fate as possible.”

         “And honestly, Professor, I think you are the key to that.”

         Not since Lily had someone had such faith in him; was able to see things inside of him that he had trouble seeing.

         He never thought that he would feel that from another person after her, and he had certainly never expected her son to be the one to do it. It was nice to be believed in again; he wasn’t even sure if Albus really thought he had changed. Severus liked that Harry treated him as a person, even if felt that he didn’t deserve it sometimes.

         And Snape was almost positive that Voldemort would have doubts about his loyalty, but assumed he was keeping him stationed at Hogwarts until he could be sure. He grew nervous about when the Dark Lord would finally summon him.

         The more he thought about his situation, the more he came to realize that both were right; for he was on neither of their sides. Snape was now firmly in the corner of Harry Potter, and he was fine with that given just who Harry had become.

         “I will do everything in my power to help you defeat Voldemort.”

         Snape’s words echoed throughout the chamber, and Harry nodded his head. He didn’t have the words and wouldn’t have known how to say it even if he did.

        

* * *

 

         Dolores Umbridge was in a sour mood. Not even four scoops of sugar in her tea had made things better. It bothered her immensely that Harry Potter had not suffered an outburst in her classroom.

         She was itching to use her new blood quill. She had braved Knockturn Alley specifically for the purpose of using it on Harry Potter.

         But she was having trouble finding someway that she could use it on him. Most of her free time was being spent racking her brain, thinking of someway that would get the boy to act out in class so that she could give him a detention. Not even the mention of his dead friend had been able to anger the boy much.

         Though, that particular class hadn’t been a total waste. She had gotten more enjoyment out of pestering the child of that hag that she worked with than she expected.

         “Easy Dolores,” she chided herself.

         She could feel herself getting worked up again and needed to take a moment to settle down.

         With exams only a few months away she was losing her opportunity to do something. Half the year had gone by and she had little to show for it.

         When she hadn’t been trying to show Potter to be the liar the she knew him to be, she had spent her time trying to convince Cornelius that new Educational Decrees were in order to giver herself more power.

         Cornelius, however, had other thoughts. He was still convinced with that silly notion of Him being back, and the missing prisoner – some Bellatrix Lestrange – had persuaded him of that even further. She was sure that it had been Dumbledore’s doing that her Minister was thinking this way, and she couldn’t stand it.

         Without the Educational Decrees, she wouldn’t be able to inform the public of what a good job she was doing. Grades alone were never a cause for celebration or notoriety, and so she hadn’t been focusing on that.

         “I’m afraid things aren’t going well for you, Dolores,” she ridiculed herself.

         It was normal for her to have these conversations since she was so busy and important that she didn’t have time for real friendships. That, and she had also started to lose her mind just a little bit.

         However, something about the word ‘afraid’ stuck in her mind as she sat at her oak desk with pink trim.

         It took several moments before an evil giggle sounded in her throat.

         “Dolores, you’ve done it!” she congratulated herself.

         “Knew you had it in you.”

         Her idea was perfect and it was just the sort of thing that would work without anyone being the wiser given that she was the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher and would have O.W.L. review sessions coming up.

         Now she had an ideal way of getting a rise out of Harry. Oh, she could hardly contain her excitement. Certainly it had to be one of his greatest fears after seeing his friend get kissed that the same would happen for him, and Boggarts were on the syllabus after all.

        She giggled very loud indeed at the thought of Harry Potter facing his greatest fear and the scene that it would no doubt cause.

 

* * *

 

         The Dark Lord was thinking about making a move. Not an obvious move, because that could lead the Ministry to make his return known to the public. While he was certain that they knew and were preparing for an eventual war with him, he preferred to keep the public in the dark for as long as possible. It would only make his job harder if they knew and the spies that he had recently placed would be less effective.

         As it was, his thoughts to use Lucius and his reputation had been immediately disregarded when the man had informed him that his reach wasn’t as far inside the Ministry with their new regime. Cornelius was wary of him now.

         But that didn’t mean that Lucius was useless, for the man had connections that would work even better. The Dark Lord had given Lucius an assignment over the Holidays – which had been immensely entertaining, as he had dropped in out of the blue - to quietly recruit a few individuals that could be trusted. He needed to know what was happening inside of the Ministry now that he had had time to prepare a little since his return.

         And while that happened, the Dark Lord was thinking about making a move towards Harry. He knew that eventually they would fight out, which of course he would win. No one would best him, not with his Horcruxes. How could the boy possibly discover those?

         He would do things right this time.

 

* * *

 

**Thoughts? And thanks in advance for your support with Soul Magic.**


	20. Chapter 20

**Author's Note:** First, thank you for reading and reviewing. Second, this will serve as a transition chapter that brings us to the events of Harry’s fifth year, which will be covered in the next few chapters.

            I know I have taken my time with getting Harry together with Charlie, and I can only say – without giving things away – that it isn’t too far off.

         **Standard disclaimer about not owning anything; I am so thankful for JKR and all that she did for us. She gave us one of the greatest gifts, and so many people have taken to this site and played brilliantly with her creation. We should have a JKR day and it should be a global holiday!**

 

* * *

 

         Several weeks had passed since Snape had been made aware of the Basilisk. The weather had started to change and Hogwarts now found itself in the midst of Spring.

         With Snape’s help, the trio had nearly finished extracting all of the usable and valuable ingredients from the large serpent. They had worked steadily throughout the term, and each person had done what they could when their respective schedules were clear for a few hours.

         Sometimes it had been only Harry and Snape that were able to sneak away unnoticed into the chamber, while at other times Ron and Hermione had a break from their Prefect schedules that provided them the time needed to participate.

         Interestingly, as Severus spent more and more time surrounded by this group of Gryffindors – who had given him such problems in the past – he found that their company was not as tiring as he once did.

         It was Hermione in particular that he found it easier to be around. During class, her incessant need to answer every question correctly was not particularly appealing; however, down in the chamber, Snape found himself, at times, even enjoying their discussions on the magical properties of the Basilisk and what the parts could be used for.

         And Ron, well that was another story altogether. The boy had grown by leaps and bounds since the end of last year. He had the brains of any of his older siblings, but he was finally growing into his own person and was particularly savvy when the group discussions veered towards the logistics of the impending war with the Dark Lord.

         With their O.W.L.s approaching, the trio had remained at Hogwarts over the Easter holidays to ensure that they were finished with the Basilisk before they got caught up in the frenzy of exam preparation. In fact, the group was finishing up the last bits of Basilisk removal inside of the chamber just as the rest of the school was on its way back to Hogwarts after the Easter Holiday.

         “Sir?” Hermione asked as she magically lifted the last bit of carcass of the ground and sent it into the void that all banished objects were directed to.

         A risen eyebrow from Snape was the only indication that he gave of his inclination to hear more.

         “I was wondering about what you said about the elixir that can be created using a sliver of the eyes and a small amount of venom from a Basilisk. I’m afraid I still don’t understand how something so caustic and deadly can be used in such a rare, healing potion. How can something that can be used to kill Horcruxes ever be able to keep someone alive for a short time, even if they are an inch from death?”

         A rare upturn of the mouth found its way to Snape’s face.

         It was discussions such as this that had really started to change his opinion of the once-insufferable know-it-all.

         “A subtle distinction, but one that makes it all possible.” Snape finished his section and walked towards the fifth-year Gryffindor Prefect.

         Outside of the classroom, he found her to be very different and engaging without the potential for house points to be won that no doubt hung over her head.

         “The venom of a Basilisk is very unique, but not unlike others in its class. Think about how something can have both positive and negative effects depending on what it is combined with. Go ahead, think about it for a moment,” he encouraged her, something that he only ever did with his snakes inside of the dungeon.

         Hermione’s brow scrunched up in thought.

         Harry, meanwhile, had stopped what he was doing to focus on their conversation. He had only recently had a similar discussion with Severus over the subtle distinctions that made Potions truly a fascinating subject.

         “Hmm,” Hermione sounded after a few moments of thought.

         “I would imagine that it’s because of how powerful the venom is that allows its nature to be changed to do something completely opposite if something could stabilize it. The venom kills, quickly,” she turned to look at Harry, remembering that he had only been saved from an early death by the tears of Fawkes.

         The healing properties of the Phoenix had neutralized the venom and allowed Harry to live. She would always be thankful for that.

         “But,” she returned her attention back to Snape, “it’s the process I am wondering about now.”

         “All right,” Severus said.

         “Ask yourself how the blood of a Basilisk is able to be used, for a short while, to provide a witch or wizard a magical boost. That particular potion was used extensively during the fourteen hundreds as it was more or less ever witch or wizard for themselves. That is, until breeding Basilisks became a heavily regulated enterprise to the point where very few Basilisks are alive today, and never are allowed to grow to this size.”

         Hermione thought about the less complicated example.

         “Well, it would be very similar to how the blood of a Unicorn was able to keep V-Voldemort alive, wouldn’t it?”

         “Magical blood has properties inherent to that organism. A Unicorn is seen as so pure and inherently noble that its blood can be used – though at a terrible cost – to heal a person. The blood of a Basilisk only knows power and strength; therefore, the blood could provide a boost to whomever takes it.”

         “A reasonable observation,” Snape remarked.

         “Now apply that same line of reasoning back to your earlier question.”

         Harry saw the determined look on Hermione’s face, knowing his friend well enough to know that she wouldn’t stop until she had reasoned this through. However, he also could tell the difference between her need for the approval of a teacher and her pursuit of knowledge, and it was the latter that was fueling her in the moment.

         “It’s about the power of the ingredients,” she said after some thought.

         “The venom only knows death, as does the eyes, but if something could be used to harness the power and remove the negative effects, then they could be used. What is the full list of ingredients?”

         Hermione’s interest was thoroughly peeked now.

         “A bezoar, namely.”

         “Of course!” Hermione now realized. While the concepts were difficult, it was quite clear once it all came together.

         Harry smiled, knowing exactly how she was feeling.

         Hermione and Snape then finished their conversation while Ron came into the room, holding out the assembled robes that had just come in that morning.

         Aside from helping them out with the Basilisk, Snape had made it very easy for them to find someone able to arrange for their Basilisk robes, complete with pants and a vest that would help to keep them very well protected.

         “Another interesting Potions debate?” Ron asked Harry, coming to stand by him.

         “You know it,” Harry responded looking at his friend with a smile.

         Ron shook his head.

         “Anyways, I tried on my set and they fit perfectly. We should probably try them out in our next practice session.”

         Harry looked to Ron, his thoughts changing from Potions to what Ron was holding out for him.

         “Do you think Charlie will like these?” Harry then asked.

         “I wanted to find some way to return how great he has been these past couple of months.”

         Ron noticed the way that Harry’s face had changed when he had mentioned his brother. It was the face of someone who thought very much of the other person. While he may not have known everything that was going on between the two of them, and even though there was a considerable age difference, he couldn’t be anything other than glad that he had thought to reach out to his brother. Harry had needed it, and when he looked in hindsight, his brother had needed something too.

         Ultimately, Ron could only let whatever happen do so at its own pace, and he was just going to stay out of the way, thankful that Harry was starting to be more like the person he had been before Cedric.

         “I think anyone would be happy with a pair of Basilisk robes, to be honest.”

         After that, the group spent only a few more minutes in the chamber before ascending to the surface ahead of the arriving group of students.

         Also, it was very fortunate for them that Umbridge had used her break to return to the Ministry so that they didn’t have to worry about being seen exciting a bathroom together.

         The group then went their different ways. Snape headed towards his room with the remaining Basilisk parts for his personal stores while Ron and Hermione headed to Gryffindor Tower to change into their school attire.

         Harry, however, headed to the owlery where he had a letter to write and a package to send.

        

* * *

 

         Charlie held the parcel in his hand that had just come through his window via Harry’s owl, Hedwig. It was large and no doubt had caused a strain on the snowy bird, no matter how proud and tough she liked to act.

         Still, she wasn’t beneath accepting some treats that Cedric had kept for her as his correspondence with Harry had grown to be more frequent, nor did she care about taking a long draught of water to rehydrate.

         Charlie’s fingers ran over the paper that sealed whatever Harry had thought to send him after placing aside the letter to read after he opened it. He had come to savor those letters and so didn’t immediately want the feeling of anticipation with what Harry would say this time to be over with so soon.

         With his attention on the package, he began to open it to reveal something that had caused his jaw to drop.

         At first he had thought that these were Dragon hide, which in and of itself was a very expensive gift. However, his experience with Dragons told him that this skin was very different. Plus, he could literally feel the difference in this material that made it distinct from what he worked with everyday.

         Combining that with what he knew of Harry’s past and how him and his friends were working on extracting everything of use from the Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets, he arrived at the conclusion that he was holding something far more rare than something made of Dragon.

         Charlie could hardly believe that he possessed something so incredibly priceless, and he couldn’t help but be touched that Harry had thought to do this for him.

         In fact, it only drove Charlie further into his developing infatuation with the young Potter.

         When they had first started talking, it had been easy for him to remain detached. But so much had happened between them, not only in their letters but also in what Harry had revealed to him in person, that Charlie couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment that he had realized that he had fallen very deeply for the young Gryffindor.

         More and more, Harry had come to take up most of his waking thoughts; some of which had gotten a little physical in nature if he let his mind run away with the idea.

         The age difference hardly mattered to him anymore, for it wasn’t unheard of in the wizarding world for such pairs to come together. Besides, Harry was almost an adult in their world and had been dealing with things well above what he otherwise would have been expected to for years.

         It was only the fear that Harry didn’t or wouldn’t someday feel the same way for him that caused him to become unsettled as he clutched the treasure that Harry had sent.

         Even though he thought it was likely that they were growing closer based on what they wrote to each other, Charlie couldn’t completely stop that nagging thought from overwhelming him and his mind.

         As such, he needed a few moments to let those unwelcomed notions pass before opening Harry’s letter.

 

         _Charlie,_

_I really don’t know how I will ever be able to repay you for all the help that you have given me. If you haven’t already opened your package, well I guess this will ruin the surprise._

_I hope these Basilisk robes can protect you in some way. Though, I would rather know that you were never going to be put in harm’s way. I don’t know what I would do if anything ever happened to you…_

_You’re so smart and good and someone that I know I can count on. I know that I always want you in my life, but I also hope that you are getting something out of this as well._

_And I wanted you to know how glad I am that our relationship has evolved from the beginning; I hope you don’t just feel like you have been helping me. I want to be there for you, if you think I could help with anything._

_Like how you helped me at St. Mungos; I know I have thanked you before for taking me, but it has only been in the past couple of weeks since then that I have really felt the difference that seeing Cedric has brought._

_A part of me will always remain in the past, but I never thought that this much of me would be able to move on. That has everything to do with you._

_Sometimes I wish I could see you more in person so I could give you a hug or just squeeze your hand for support. Is that weird that I think about that? Is it wrong or awkward? (Just following through with our honesty thing)._

_Because I find myself thinking about the future a lot, and feel both selfish and guilty for wanting you there for it. But I know that decision ultimately rests with you._

_Okay, I’ve started to ramble about my feelings, but it’s so easy to just let them out._

_Hopefully, I will be able to write more soon. OWLs are here in two months and I feel really good about them. I don’t want to brag, but I think I’ll get at least an E in everything!_

_Thanks again, Charlie. For everything!_

_You have no idea what you mean to me,_

_Harry_

 

         Charlie sat back on his couch, clutching Harry’s letter in his hands. He was now even more smitten with Harry, if that was possible. What Harry had said had only reaffirmed how he was feeling inside for the other boy, and how right he had been to fall for someone so sweet and special.

         The best part about Harry was that he didn’t know, couldn’t because of how he was raised, just how special and unique that he really was. So he never flashed those parts in front of others, and it was his incredible capacity to feel that had lured Charlie in.

         Never had he known someone that was so generous despite all of the horrific obstacles that they had had to face.

        And if he was being honest with himself, he had a pretty good feeling that Harry was having similar thoughts about something developing between them. What had been in the letter was only a small part, as Charlie could never quite forget how hugging Harry had felt.

         The fact that Harry had specifically mentioned wanting physical contact between them had heated Charlie’s blood and produced a long-forgotten sensation.

         Charlie just wished that he knew what to do about it now. He wanted to tell Harry how he felt, but didn’t want to risk all of the progress that Harry had made. Was the younger boy even ready to start something?

         After a stiff drink in which Charlie thought about everything, he resolved to wait until he was sure that Harry was ready. That was all he could do, because the notion of ruining what was happening between them was more terrifying than anything he could think of. It had been a long time since anyone had even come close to making him feel the same way that Geoff had, and he had never quite experienced someone being able to make him feel new things since then.

         It was a while before Charlie was able to move from his sitting position, and he had needed another measure of whiskey before he was to able feel the drowsiness that urged him to sleep.

         He would respond to Harry tomorrow.

 

* * *

 

         _Harry,_

_I am speechless. Your gift was… well, I really am at a loss for it. Because of my line of work, I know the value of Dragon hide, but I can’t even fathom the worth of Basilisk skin._

_It was without a doubt the best gift I have ever received. And I’m not just talking about its value. You mean a lot to me too. Which is why I will be there by your side going into the future; I couldn’t imagine a world that didn’t have you in it either._

_You don’t know how happy I am that you have found yourself again in the wake of what happened, that you have dealt with everything so superbly. Even though you really shouldn’t have had to deal with any of it._

_My greatest wish is for you to be happy and free from all of the stress that, well, comes with being you. I will do anything I can to make that a reality and there is no need for thanking._

_For you have really opened my eyes to the world again. More so now that I realize how much I was missing. I thought that I had fully dealt with Geoff, but I hadn’t. Not really._

_Because you are right, a part of us will always remain in the past with them, but we have to move on. We have to live for them – and I think I had lost site of that somewhat._

_So thank you, Harry. You really don’t know how amazing you are: how kind, how gentle. If there was ever a person that had ideals worth fighting for, well it is you._

_Though, again, I wish it wasn’t you. I would take your burden away if I could._

_So don’t ever worry about feeling selfish for having the people that you want around you, especially if those people want to be there with you._

_I’m sure we will have plenty of time to see each other this summer, and I’ll make sure to make myself available for as many hugs as possible. I promise!_

_And don’t ever worry about rambling on because I always enjoy hearing what you have to say. I rather like it when you ramble, in fact. Some would find it adorable, even._

_I know you will do amazing on your OWLs; I’m certain that you will do better than an E._

_~My hand is always within reach,_

_Charlie_

         Harry had a warm sensation in his stomach. Charlie’s response to his gift and letter had come the following week and it had taken a few hours for the grin to leave his face.

         He had been nervous about some of the things that he had said, not wanting to come right out and tell Charlie how he might be developing feelings for him.

         It was something that Harry had never expected when they had first traded their stories back and forth. To think that this soon after Cedric he would be contemplating having feelings for someone else had scared him at first.

         Betraying Cedric was the last thing that he had wanted, but he couldn’t deny how Charlie made him feel and how effortless it was to not only be in the same room with him but to talk with him as well. Opening up had never been easy for him give his past; however, with Charlie he hardly thought about that.

         The entire situation, especially how slowly things had been going with Charlie, ultimately made it not as difficult for Harry to process his tumultuous emotions on the subject.

         The time, as well as the visit to St. Mungos, had given Harry perspective and he was able to know deep down that Cedric would only want Harry to live his life. For Harry would have only wanted the same for Cedric had their situations been reversed.

         Still, Harry wasn’t going to rush into anything. Whether anything did or did not happen between them was still to be decided, but Harry thought that the possibility was certainly there. Besides, they would no doubt have more time to interact during the summer when O.W.L.s were over with.

         Speaking about his upcoming examinations, Harry shelved his remaining thoughts on the subject and, using his considerable skill with Occlumency, focused on the class that was just about to start.

         The rest of the class settled down a few minutes later when Professor Umbridge walked out with a large, rattling chest behind her. The woman’s smile was practically predatory and her round eyes were focused on Harry Potter.

         “Good morning class.” Her eyes remained fixed on Harry.

         “Good morning, Professor Umbridge,” the class managed to get out without any thought at the actual words coming out of their mouths.

         “Today we will be continuing our review for your upcoming O.W.L. in Defense Against the Dark Arts. As such, I _found_ a Boggart lurking in the castle.”

         Her grin grew very wide and Harry used every part of his mental skill to calm his rapidly beating heart.

 

* * *

        

**All right, I know that is a little shorter than what is typical, but I wanted to at least get something out. With going through Soul Magic again and work, I have very little time. Obviously it is a cliffhanger, but otherwise the chapter would have been very long. Don’t worry: the next one will more than make up for making you wait.**


	21. The Boggart

**Author's Note:** First, thank you for reading and reviewing. Second, I hope I did this scene justice while keeping more or less in line with the characters that I have developed so far.

         **Standard disclaimer about not owning anything; I am so thankful for JKR and all that she did for us. She gave us one of the greatest gifts, and so many people have taken to this site and played brilliantly with her creation. We should have a JKR day and it should be a global holiday!**

 

* * *

 

         ‘ _Focus Harry_ ,’ he told himself over and over again as he sat, frozen to his chair in the Defense Against the Dark Art’s classroom.

         Harry swallowed and kept staring straight ahead, for he knew that he didn’t have much time to prepare himself after Umbridge’s announcement that they would be facing Boggarts today.

         Immediately he willed himself to focus on clearing his mind and setting up his mindscape so that he could hopefully handle what was to come. The last time a Boggart had revealed his deepest fear it had been a Dementor, and though Harry had subsequently learned how to fight many of them off at a time, the fact that he had lost Cedric to one would always weigh heavily on his mind. But he didn’t have the time to sit there and wonder and let the doubt fill him.

         One thing that he was actively trying to avoid as he fortified his mental barriers was catching the glance of his friends, who were both looking his way with various degrees of uncomfortable worry on their faces.

         Hermione was furiously trying to think of a way out of this because she didn’t think for one minute that O.W.L. preparation had anything to do with the Boggart rumbling around in the locket cabinet at the front of the room.

         Quickly, she put together a reasonable plan given the amount of time that she had and spoke instead of trying to get Umbridge’s permission by raising her hand.

         “I thought you said that we would not be using our wands in this class, preferring to instead wait until we were in a carefully controlled and Ministry-approved setting?”

         But Dolores’s smile only widened and she stood up from her desk and walked to the front of the room.

         “Nothing is ever good enough for you,” her sickeningly sweet voice reprimanded.

         “And here I thought that you guys wanted to learn magic. Tsk tsk. I really tried to listened to my students,” she lied as she sauntered over to the door.

         “You just can’t seem to please some people,” she smirked at Hermione and opened the door to reveal a tall man.

         He was wearing what looked to be an expensive traveling cloak and appeared to be in his late twenties as he walked into the room.

         “Class, this is Auror Jenkins. He will be here to ensure a _Ministry-approved_ setting that is _carefully controlled_.”

         Hermione’s eyes twitched ever so slightly in response, and couldn’t think of a way out of this now. After all, she had practically gone on record to say how much she had enjoyed Lupin’s class and a Boggart had also been used in that class.

         Meanwhile, Ron did not like the condescending way in which Dolores had talked to Hermione, nor did he appreciate her attempt to use the Boggart to mess with Harry.

         His anger on behalf of his friends was able to momentarily push his own fears aside, until they were able to fight back and consume him. Soon, Ron had no ability left for rational thought at the moment and started shaking his left leg as panic gripped his heart.

         But Harry noticed very little of this. He was determined to make it through this class and for the inevitable hell that was no doubt about to take place. The last remaining emotions were quickly separated from his thoughts as he knew his time to prepare was growing short.

         The panic that was evident in many of the student’s eyes brought much satisfaction to Dolores, but it was the reaction of Harry and his friends that tipped her over the edge with glee.

         She was so proud of herself for coming up with this little plan and couldn’t wait to humiliate the boy who had spoiled her plans.

         “Now class,” she spoke in her most sugary voice to date.

         “As I said, we will be beginning our review for your upcoming exams. Auror Jenkins will be on hand to make sure that nothing gets out of hand. After all, I would be remiss in my duties to not provide for your safety. Hehe,” she chuckled and her predatory smile was directed once more at Hermione.

         It was eerie. Some of the students became even more beholden to their fears and the prospect of facing an Umbridge-supplied Boggart.

         In fact, Umbridge herself was feeding off the terror that she was causing. However, even though Harry Potter was the sole reason for this particular lesson plan, she didn’t want to be obvious and have him go first. Besides, there were other students that she couldn’t stand and so she would make this last as long as she possibly could.

         However, she also couldn’t let this go on for _too_ long since she couldn’t afford to embarrass some of the Slytherins, whose parents were very influential within the Ministry. She knew she didn’t have the clout, yet, to make all of the students face the Boggart.

         So her eyes scanned the seated students and her gaze immediately fell on Hermione.

         “Ms. Granger, since you are always so prepared and think that you know everything, why don’t you go first.”

         All eyes turned to the fifth-year Gryffindor Prefect as she blinked her eyes. She had expected as much and then the class watched as she determinedly rose from her seat and walked to the front of the room.

         Her wand was held ready at her side.

         Harry was more aware now of what was going on. He had just about separated his emotions from his thoughts and he was able to watch as Hermione readied herself to face the Boggart with little to no outward or internal emotion.

         However, he wasn’t able to completely separate the two, as emotions were integral part of the human psyche. Thus, some scant bits always remained.

         His almost normal pulse rose again as the seconds ticked by and Hermione got a determined expression on her face as she readied herself for facing her greatest fear.

         The room was silent and Dolores’ wand swished through the air, and the latch that had been holding the Boggart in the cupboard was opened.

         In Hermione’s mind, she had a few guesses at what she would be facing; however, she was quite certain that it wasn’t going to be something as simple as failing an exam or a class.

         Hell, she could fail out of Hogwarts for all she cared with the way the world was. There were far more important things at stake.

         The class held its breath as a human hand grabbed at the door and pushed it outward.

         And that was when the panic started.

         The seemingly normal hand turned out to be attached to a bloodied and bruised Hermione, who was seemingly just standing in place.

         The haunting image caused a series of gasps to break the silence, before the class slowly inched backwards in their desks and away from the mangled Hermione that had stumbled out of the closet.

         The real Hermione’s eyes widened and she looked on in horror as her counterpart, so defeated and near death, opened her mouth and began to speak.

         “We failed them,” she lamented with an inhuman sound.

         “They are dead now. Our mind wasn’t good enough to keep them safe. We weren’t as clever as we needed to be and it cost us everything in the end.”

         Tears started to form in Hermione’s eyes in response to the words and the gut-wrenching pain that was displayed on the Boggart’s face.

         Her breath then caught in her throat and her wand remained limp at her side.

         Many in the room were in the same place, and even those that really didn’t like Hermione could feel for her. Mostly.

         Some of Harry’s emotions that he had successfully separated trickled back, but the majority of his feelings were still able to be kept at bay.

         His thoughts though, they were almost solely focused on his friend, leaving only what was necessary to keep his Occlumency shields running.

         And in that moment, Harry hated Umbridge for making his friend go through this and his anger at her focused his mind.

         While she stood there with a look of amusement on her face at taking little-miss-know-it-all down a peg, Harry vowed that he would find a way to get Umbridge back.

         But the internal dialogue going through Dolores Umbridge at that instant was a little different. True, she was thoroughly enjoying the sight before her. Although, she was somewhat aware of what the girl’s Boggart represented to know that she couldn’t let this display go on for too much longer either.

         Because she refused to believe that Voldemort was in fact back and the last thing that she wanted was to put that idea out in the open again. Some things ought not to be encouraged.

         It was then that Umbridge full realized that perhaps she had gotten herself in a bit too deep, for she technically had no experience in battling a Boggart and couldn’t exactly interfere at the moment.

         Luckily for her, Hermione had had enough of the sight before her and took matters into her own hand. With her wand instantly in front of her, she flicked her wrist at the Boggart version of herself.

         She wouldn’t let that future take hold if she could help it and she knew just what to change the Boggart into.

         “ _Riddikulus_!” she cast.

         The spell hit the Boggart-Hermione square in the chest and it morphed, quite literally into a fully-realized version of the woman that Hermione was on her way to becoming.

         The formerly on-edge students stared in wonder and amazement at this vision of the bushy-haired girl that most of them had been so quick to make fun of during their first year. Gone were the tangled and bloodied locks and meek appearance, for in their place stood a beautiful and confident woman who had never tasted Voldemort’s triumph.

         With the potentially embarrassing situation now over, Umbridge forgot about just how close things had come to her losing control. Therefore, she moved to select her next victim.

         But not before she quietly mumbled, ‘trust the little know-it-all to turn the tables around,’ under her breath.

         “Ronald Weasley, your turn!” she then commanded as Hermione sat back down somewhat shakily in her seat.

         However, Ron was quite slow to get up. His preoccupation with his fear had been replaced with an enchanting vision of Hermione, and for as long as he lived he would never be able to get that image out of his head.

         When he made it to the front, Umbridge had an impatient look on her face and hoped that the youngest male Weasley would be able to improve her mood before she got to Potter.

         The stunning image of Hermione was soon replaced in Ron’s mind with the realization of what he was doing and what he was facing.

         Which made the image that the Boggart had turned into all the more alarming. For the beautiful woman had morphed into an obviously wounded and dying Harry, who was writhing on the ground and looking at Ron as if he had been the one that had done this to him.

         The Boggart began to inch towards Ron and blood began to dribble out of its mouth as it tried to articulate the horrible disappointment on its face.

         “You betrayed me, Ron. How could you do that to me, your brother?”

         Harry was watching the scene unfold with wide eyes, but he knew what Ron’s fear was. But to see it in person was something else altogether.

         They had talked about it late at night in Gryffindor, when everyone else had fallen asleep. Ron had been thoroughly ashamed of his behavior during the Triwizard Tournament and hated the fact that he had abandoned Harry in his time of need. It was always in the back of his mind that he would let Harry down again with Voldemort back, no matter how much Harry tried to tell him that he knew Ron was with him to the end.

         The rest of the class was looking on in morbid curiosity when Ron swallowed and stood tall; he too would not let this image come to pass if he could help it.

         He raised his wand and flung his _Riddikulus_ towards the Boggart.

         Some may have found the form of Ron’s Boggart surprising, considering his newfound relationship with Hermione. However, the thought of letting his first and best friend down again was something that he couldn’t live with. Death would have been preferable.

         But no one questioned his devotion to her anymore when his Boggart also morphed into the same, stunning version of Hermione. She was laughing this time and her joy was infectious and it spread throughout the classroom, removing the horrible visions of a dying Harry Potter from most of their minds. Some remained disappointed that it hadn’t lasted longer and that the image had been a Boggart instead of the real one.

         Ron and Hermione both blushed at the scene in front of them, however.

         Which enraged Dolores even further as her plan was unraveling before her eyes. She made a move to summon Harry to the front, intent on reeling the festivities in a direction more towards her liking when her plans were interrupted as Harry stepped in front of Ron.

         The new prey began the Boggart’s change again, but Harry already had his wand out, the events of the class so far had compelled him into action. Which incidentally calmed his remaining nerves as Harry was born to think on his feet.

         The Boggart had barely been able to turn into a version of a dead Charlie Weasley when Harry hit it with the counter-curse. In fact, It happened so quickly that no one was able to recognize who the Boggart had turned into, save for Ron.

         Which was exactly what Harry had meant to do. What Dolores had put Hermione and Ron through were unforgivable in his mind. Remus had done this lesson while their fears were more childish, but this was torture now that they were older.

         It hadn’t taken Harry long to think of a solution, for he couldn’t allow this to continue. With a plan in place, he had bravely faced the Boggart – not even caring what it turned it – with the intent of directing it back at Umbridge. If she was going to have them face their fears, then Harry had decided that it was time for her to face what terrified her.

         Taking inspiration from Remus’ dismissal of his Boggart during third year, Harry imagined a popped balloon that flew around the room, using the air that was rushing out of it to fuel its flight.

         Of course, Harry had also used his wand to make sure that the deflating Boggart smacked Dolores Umbridge squarely in the face.

         Everyone’s eyes instantly widened as the horrible woman was knocked backwards and stumbled into the wall, where she was finally able to use it as leverage to prevent herself from falling over.

         The Boggart bounced off of her and landed on the floor a few feet away.

         What happened next was so unexpected that everyone rose from their seats and took a few steps back. For now there were two Dolores Umbridges that existed side-by-side. One of them looked perfectly comfortable as she silently judged her counterpart, just like the class had come to expect her to act.

         However, that was the Boggart, leaving the real Umbridge looking on in horror as everyone else did when they looked at her. She began to walk backwards as the Boggart engaged its prey until she was forced into the corner.

         The Boggart also stopped moving, it was feeding off of its victim’s fear so much that it was hesitant to take another step until it was prepared to ingest that much energy. Boggarts fed off of the fear of their victims, and it was underappreciated just how little harm they could physically do to you. A Boggart had no intention of doing anything more than making that person squirm until it was sated; however, the longer the interrogation went the longer the Boggart would be able to go between meals.

         After a good scare, a Boggart could exist comfortable in solitude for many years, which coincidently was why they preferred dark and out-of-the-way locations to pass their time.

         Therefore, the Boggart was just standing there, eerily mimicking Dolores’ usual stance. It had also quickly perfected her upturned nose and judgmental eyes.

         Normally, seeing someone cower in fear would have elicited sympathy from most people. But alas, no one cared that much for Dolores. In fact many were even looking forward to seeing the most hated teacher at Hogwarts get what had been coming to her.

         The Slytherins may have acted amenable to her presence in class and around the castle if it could help them, but as a whole they were always game to see someone get knocked down a peg or two. Especially if it was because of their own lack of foresight since planning was so integral to how they operated.

         “Poor, Dolores. Things haven’t been going well for you lately, have they?” her own sickly voice echoed off the walls in a fake sympathy.

         “Tsk, tsk. All of your hard work and planning is ruined, and for what? This?”

         The Boggart’s eyes shown with unholy glee as she gestured with her arm to highlight the gravity of the situation and her surroundings.

         Umbridge began to whimper now, desperately trying to find some fight within her to combat her fear of knowing that she would never amount to anything.

         “Now…. Now see hear,” she offered meekly. “I w-will have or-orderrr.”

         It was unconvincing and the Boggart giggled.

         “Hehe!”

         “You didn’t seriously think that any of this would make up for what you lack inside? Did you? Why, you hardly have more magic than a squib!”

         As the class watched their DADA Professor open and close her mouth several times in an attempt to say something in response, her cheeks grew crimson as she was more embarrassed than she had ever been in her entire life.

         Her wand shakily was raised and held in front of her.

         “R- _Riddikulus_ ,” she stuttered out, causing the Boggart’s outfit to change from a pink to a crimson red.

         If anything it made the Boggart more terrifying.

         “Pathetic,” the Boggart said as a wand appeared in its hand and was aimed expertly at its prey.

         But Boggarts couldn’t perform magic, although it had the same effect and Umbridge shrieked and dropped her wand.

         Which brought a smile to many of the students’ faces, Harry’s especially.

         “Now, now Dolores, look at what you’ve done!”

         “I told you that you would never be good enough to be a witch!”

         The Boggart moved closer.

         “But you didn’t listen, you didn’t learn back when we were children. You wanted to be better because you thought that you deserved it because of your sad life. How many friends - the few that you did have - did you push aside to make yourself stand out? How many lives did you ruin so that you could get ahead?”

         Hermione was the only one who really felt any sympathy at this point, and it was more of a testament to how empathetic she was. But what she heard next made her feel like Umbridge was getting exactly what she deserved. It was detestable.

         “You poisoned your own father because you were ashamed that he was a janitor. Though, that was after you begged him to leave the Ministry because you didn’t want his lack of ambition to be associated with you. Not after sleeping with all of the people that you had to in order to finally land a respectable job at the Ministry.”

         Harry’s good mood was also somewhat soured with the thought that she was more evil than he had given her credit for. However, he found it very hard to not feel some satisfaction at what was happening to her, even after she started sobbing and snot became to pour out of her nose.

         She had lost the will to fight back, and that was a very sad thing.

         He really would have had more sympathy for her, considering what he had been through himself, if she hadn’t been such a horrible person

         The Auror however had no problem watching this scene unfold. He had seen and heard about much worse throughout the course of his career. Plus, he personally had never really liked the woman and was only here because she had blackmailed him into supporting this inane endeavor. Therefore he was quite content to sit back and allow her humiliation to continue. He would only interfere if it were _absolutely_ necessary.

         “And then Dolores, you thought that you had it all figured out. You resurrected the Triwizard Tournament and thought that it was going to be your ticket to bigger and better things. However, it didn’t end well. Did it?”

         The Boggart shook its head from side to side.

         ‘That is an understatement,’ Harry thought as he felt his pulse rise with thinking back to the events of last year.

         The Boggart Dolores was now feet from her counterpart and knelt down as an adult would to reach a child on their level.

         “You never liked the rumors that swirled around the Ministry that the Dark Lord was back.”

         The room became deathly quiet with the mention of His return since it was something that not a lot of the people present were aware of.

         “Because, you know Dolores,” the Boggart continued in a quieter voice, unaffected by others as it was feeding off the increasing fear of its target.

         “Deep down in your soul that you are worried that the little liar is right about Voldemort.”

         The real Umbridge’s face had gone white with the reveal of her deepest fear.

         “You worry that Him being back will ruin all of the hard work that you have put in, and that it will show just how incapable you truly are.”

         Harry and his friends were watching the scene with great interest and noticed how the other students were beginning to stare at him out of the corner of their eyes. The majority in the room had gone from gleefully watching Umbridge get her comeuppance to being downright terrified at the mere notion that the Dark Lord was back.

         Though they had never lived through the dark times, the reality of it had left a mark on certain members of their family. Of course, that was if they had survived the war.

         Meanwhile, the Boggart kept attacking Dolores with its words and was becoming quite full after the prolonged exposure to her fear.

         “So you tried to take out the boy, thinking that with him gone there wouldn’t be a problem anymore. You tried to silence him, but you’re getting soft Dolores. You always were.”

         It was as if time slowed at this moment and Harry could only stand there among Hermione and Ron as certain truths were finally being brought to light.

         “Because you know, deep down, that scheming and plotting is the only way that you could get anywhere with how pathetic you are at magic.”

         The terror coming off of Umbridge was too great and the Boggart couldn’t resist getting even closer to its victim. Never before had it feasted for so long; it could live for decades now.

         “You couldn’t even kill him Dolores. Since your pitiful attempt with the Dementors took the wrong boy.”

         Everything stood still. Not a single sound escaped the lips of those present. They were too shocked to do anything other than widen their eyes as their brains tried to restart.

         Harry just blinked and turned his head at an angle. It was so very difficult for him to process what had just been said.

         Harry had always assumed that Voldemort had sent them, and the fact that a Boggart had now said something quite different was perplexing. Could the Boggart be believed? Had she been the one to send the Dementors?

         It didn’t take long for him to start to feel the rise of his emotions that heralded that he would most likely do something that he would come to regret.

         Thankfully, Hermione and Ron were able to think faster and moved to secure Harry before he could have a violent outburst, even if it was deserved.

         With Hermione grabbing onto his hands and Ron using his arms to encircle Harry’s torso, it jilted Harry just long enough for his rational mind to realize that he would be in very deep trouble if he didn’t employ every ounce of Occlumency that he could.

         As quickly as possible.

         Immediately, Harry began to draw himself into his mindscape. It was fortunate that he had just gone through securing his mind at the beginning of class. Many of the barriers were still in place and a good majority of his emotions were already separated from his thoughts.

         The only emotion that he really had to deal with at the moment was anger, although that was also the hardest to deal with. However, it was far easier having to just deal with that one feeling than to have to deal with everything at the same time.

         If that had been the case, the outcome may have been different since it still took all of his nerve to keep it together.

         He couldn’t afford to break down in class and react on his very real and tempting desire to cause her pain and avenge the atrocious act that had cost Cedric his life.

        There was also a small part of him that had been proud of how far he had come and all of the progress that he had made in regaining his life in the past nine months and didn’t want to throw it all away.

         So much of his time had been spent moving on from that dark day that it felt like the words that he was hearing applied to someone else’s life. The more he separated his anger and despair with her role in things, the easier it became to finish what he was doing.

         Ultimately, Harry soon reached a point where he had done as much as he could do to block out the world around him. However, the act had left him numb and not even his eyes gave away the pain that he was feeling in the banished regions of his mind.

         The whole thing felt wrong to him to be quite honest. In his mind, it just didn’t make any sense that Dolores Umbridge was the reason that Cedric was no longer in his life. He didn’t understand how someone could just do that to someone that they hadn’t even met.

         Even though he couldn’t feel at the moment, it didn’t mean that he necessarily wanted to remain in the same room with her either.

         But then something happened that gave him the perfect cover to do something about it.

         For the Auror, who had been taking pleasure in watching Umbridge squirm under the effects of the Boggart had also been shocked into submission. Though unlike Harry, he hadn’t quite mastered the art of Occlumency. But even if he had, it was likely that he still would have reacted in the manner that he did.

         Once the force of the revelation had subsided, his anger at this woman erupted at what she had done to his cousin. It wasn’t widely known that his mother was Cedric’s Aunt, in large part because wizarding society often placed great emphasize on family names that highly favored paternal lineages.

         And the Auror had fond memories of his cousin, and had just missed out on getting to go to Hogwarts together.

         Which meant that he was angry. Not as angry as Harry, but he didn’t have the restraint nor desire to prevent him from acting.

         And boy did he as Dolores Umbridge was rocked into the wall by an especially potent burst of magical energy from his wand.

         He then made quick work of the Boggart by banishing it back inside the cabinet before returning his attention towards the woman who he had a serious desire of _crucioing_.

         He stalked over to the unconscious woman and bound her with ropes, having just enough self-control to save himself a one-way ticket to Azkaban. But he was beyond irate and the students took another step back when they saw the anger in his eyes.

         Just then, the door opened and Filius Flitwick appeared. It was obvious that the explosion that had taken out Umbridge had alerted the Charm’s Professor since his classroom was just across the hall.

         “Dolores Umbridge was the one to set the Dementors loose this summer,” the Auror informed Filius angrily.

         An understanding flashed through Filius’ eyes and he nodded slightly towards the Auror, before glancing at Ron and Hermione and wondering just where on earth Harry had gone to.

       

* * *

 

         **I decided to end that there because the next section just didn’t really fit. The next chapter will deal with the aftermath of this and take us up to the beginning of O.W.L.s. After that, we are done with the 5 th year and will move onto the summer. Again, my plan for sixth year is to move things along more rapidly and I’ll begin to work in more from Voldemort’s point of view.**


	22. Chapter 22

**Author's Note:** First, thank you for reading and reviewing. Second, you have no idea how hard it is not to find a reason for Charlie to come to Hogwarts. Many times I find myself getting carried away with my plans for a chapter and have to take a step back and return to my original vision.

            Also, work is having me travel a lot and so my writing time is practically non-existent.

         **Standard disclaimer about not owning anything; I am so thankful for JKR and all that she did for us. She gave us one of the greatest gifts, and so many people have taken to this site and played brilliantly with her creation. We should have a JKR day and it should be a global holiday!**

 

 

* * *

 

         Harry looked at Sirius’ face again.

         His Godfather was concerned but was waiting patiently.

         “Sorry, I zoned out. What did you say again?”

         Harry met Sirius’ eyes briefly and then focused them on his hands in front of him.

         Sirius breathed out, looking at his Godson and charge with a mixed of emotions. The events of that day that still hadn’t sunk in yet, despite it being almost a week later.

         He had truthfully been quite worried when Dumbledore had first alerted the staff to the unbelievable events that had transpired during the Defense Against the Dark Arts’ class for the fifth-year students.

         Sirius had practically rushed to the room only to find that Harry was missing, and not even Ron or Hermione could tell him where he was.

         Though, it didn’t take them very long to realize that he had most likely gone to the chamber. After all, it was the one place in the castle that only Harry could enter.

         Much of the rest of Sirius’ activities that day had involved _trying_ to wait patiently and hope that Harry hadn’t gone off the deep end. Not that he was very good at being patient.

         His relief had been palpable when Harry had knocked on his door later that night under the protection of his invisibility cloak.

         It had been difficult, but they managed to get through that night and Harry had been able to open up to his Godfather about what he was feeling and how he had managed to leave the classroom without throwing several Crucios at Dolores.

         Sirius had no idea that Harry had become _that_ capable with his Occlumency and was quite proud that the young man had managed to do something that he himself would have probably not been able to do.

         Because Sirius was still furious with Umbridge as he sat there a week later across from Harry as they ate breakfast together in his chambers.

         It had been a good thing that they had removed the woman immediately to Azkaban because otherwise Sirius had no doubt in his mind that he would have used some of his family’s best curses on her.

         But looking at Harry’s face now as he reconsidered his question gave him a different perspective on everything. If Harry could handle things, and it was evident by how he spoke and what he talked about that he was dealing with this rather than burying it, then Sirius could start to process it differently himself.

         “It’s okay pup,” he said as he released some of the tension that he had been carrying.

         So much of his life had become focused on making sure that Harry was surviving and would survive that sometimes he took things more personal than Harry did. After all, he just wanted his Godson to finally be happy and safe for one extended period of time.

         It pained him to see how low Harry had fallen in the wake of the Dementors’ attack at the Burrow and he never wanted his Godson to experience that ever again.

         “I just asked how classes had been this past week,” Sirius said again once he had Harry’s attention.

         “Oh… better, I think.”

         Harry paused for a minute before continuing.

         Their relationship had been slowly building up again since Christmas and he was more aware now of how he had taken the man’s presence for granted. He was trying to be as honest with his Godfather as he could while dealing with each day as best he could.

         “Not as many people are constantly staring at me anymore. I think without anything being said in the papers about what happened meant that eventually all of the hype would die down.”

         Sirius nodded, but Harry continued.

         “When I had first been able to process everything that she had said … I half-expected everyone to believe that Voldemort was back overnight; but that clearly didn’t happen. The Ministry doesn’t want people to know, do they?”

         It was still hard for Harry to think about that vile woman without getting angry and sad and so he tried to focus as little as he could on her; however, what had happened in that class had been the only thing that the other student’s had kept talking about.

         In truth he was quite thankful that exams were approaching since it would mean that the chatter and gossip would finally die down. Otherwise he didn’t think that he would have been able to keep up his Occlumency shields indefinitely.

         Sirius shook his head and gave Harry a regretful look.

         “No Harry, they don’t,” he said taking a slight pause before continuing.

         “Only certain people within the Ministry are aware, and they want to prevent the panic that such information would cause. Which also explains why someone’s recent trip to Azkaban was swept under the rug.”

         Sirius had learned that it was best not to mention the awful woman by name – for both of their sakes.

         “Still, I wonder what will happen since many in the class no doubt wrote home and told their parents what had happened. They can’t keep news of it silent forever, can they?”

         Sirius smiled at Harry, but it wasn’t a happy smile.

         “When did you become so knowledgeable on how things worked?” Sirius shook his head, already knowing the answer.

         “I had to grow up,” Harry replied anyway.

         If Sirius didn’t know better, he would have taken Harry’s rigid and silent exterior to mean that the boy was shutting down and hiding from the world.

         However, he knew that it was just how Harry had come to responsibly deal with the events of his life. He had real concerns in his life that others his age just would never be able to grasp and that had caused him to mature quite rapidly, especially within the past year.

         Harry had become more patient and thoughtful; no doubt allowing him to acquire an understanding of things that didn’t have to be explicitly apparent in the world around him.

         Sirius knew that a large part of Harry’s ability to handle everything stemmed from his Occlumency, but until the past week he had had no idea just how much of a good thing that was.

         As a former Auror, Sirius was aware of the mind art and had a better than average grasp on how it worked since it had been a requirement of his job. Still, he found himself practicing more and more during the past week as he saw how much it was benefitting Harry.

         Of course, just because he thought that Harry had handled everything exceptionally better than he would have didn’t meant that Harry hadn’t lost it at some point over the course of the week. In fact most of Sirius’ belongings had needed to be repaired after Harry had shown up to his quarters after hiding in the Chamber of Secrets for the day.

         Which in retrospect was a healthy and good thing since it had provided Harry an outlet for his emotions, and made the whole thing easier on Sirius because at least he knew that his Godson wasn’t holding all of the pain of it inside. Like Remus had in the aftermath of losing all of his friends in one fell swoop; the man still hadn’t dealt with everything appropriately.

         “What’s on the docket for today?” Sirius asked after they both poured themselves another round of hot tea.

         “With our Ordinary Wizarding Levels right around the corner, I expect we will be in the library for the foreseeable future.”

         Sirius nodded.

         “How do you feel about them?”

         “I’m not worried about passing, if that’s what you mean. I expect I will do nothing worse than an Exceeds Expectation.”

         Talking about positive things improved both of their moods.

         “Any thought to what you wanted to do this summer?”

         Sirius would strive and make sure that Harry could relax, even though he knew that some part of it would be spent preparing for the upcoming war. Although Sirius thought it was too soon to start talking about the prophecy again.

         But they would have to in time, and likely earlier than Sirius was comfortable with.

         “I honestly just want to relax for a little while. I think that is the only thing I can think of at the moment and worry about the rest later.”

         Harry shrugged his shoulders as he finished his cup of tea.

         “Sounds about right,” Sirius quipped in return.

         Sirius closed his eyes and let some measure of relief pass through him that they were both on more or less of the same page.

         He then opened his eyes and attempted to look more relaxed himself.

         “But we will make sure to have some fun, all right?”

         Harry nodded, though not as enthusiastically as Sirius had hoped that he would.

         But it didn’t matter; he would make sure that Harry kept his spirits up.

         Although, even if Harry wasn’t as outwardly appreciative of all that Sirius was doing for him, that didn’t mean that he wasn’t grateful. Far from it to be honest.

         “Thanks for this breakfast, Sirius. I needed a break from the rest of the castle, even if it was just for a meal.”

         Sirius put his cup of tea down and stared right into Harry’s eyes.

         “I would do anything for you, pup. You are and will always be the most important thing in the world to me.”

         Harry could just nod and smile back. However, the part of him that would always in some form remain associated with that unloved child who had endured such abuse at Number Four Privet Drive felt just a little bit lighter.

         They sat in silence for a few more minutes before Harry got up and hugged Sirius before heading off to the library to meet his friends.

        

        

* * *

 

         A week later found almost all of the fifth years cramming as much material into their brains as possible. For this was their last weekend to prepare for their O.W.L.s that began bright and early on Monday morning.

         But Harry and his friends had followed Hermione’s study schedule and felt quite prepared for their exams. While they were studying just like everyone else, they weren’t reading everything with a frantic desperation. It would have been unrealistic for them to have prepared any better than they had and at this point, all that was left for them to do was to go through their extensive notes a final time.

         Even with concentrating as hard as he was, Harry would still randomly get drawn into his own thoughts.

         The whole year had been quite hard on him. To be honest, it had probably been the most difficult series of events that he had ever faced, time at the Dursleys included.

         However, at the same time he had also found that he had grown the most and was becoming with each passing day a person that he was more and more proud of.

         While some aspects of being Harry Potter would never go away, they had shaped him into the person that he was. Which generally was someone that Harry was quite happy with.

         Plus, this year had also brought Charlie into his life and that was something that he was most thankful for. Charlie was just someone that wasn’t just easy to be around; the older boy made it easier to just live.

         With every letter that they had exchanged, they became even closer to where sometimes it felt like Charlie was right there and reading his own words to Harry.

         After experiencing the feelings of loss and grief that had come with Cedric, Harry was surprised by how quickly he had gone to beginning to feel the same way about someone else.

         Well, that wasn’t entirely true; he was feeling things for Charlie that quite frankly scared him and were beyond what he had experienced with Cedric.

         The discrepancy between the intensity of his two separate attractions had caused him to contemplate things all over again.

         Dealing with Cedric had been the hardest thing that he had ever done, and though he had felt that pain again with Umbridge’s reveal of the truth, he was in a different place.

         He had the perspective now to look back and know that what he had felt for Cedric, and still felt for him, was intensified by the fact that Cedric was and would always be the first person that he had really thought of as someone more than friends.

         Which made him take an even deeper look at what he was feeling for Charlie. His relationship with the older Weasley had not been borne out of escaping a harrowing situation, like the one with Cedric had.

         Nor had it escalated so quickly through stolen kisses at the top of the Astronomy Tower as the school year was coming to a close, which only further fueled their desire for one another because they would soon be without it.

         Charlie had entered his life when he had needed someone to talk to about what he was feeling, and so all of the feelings that developed later were in response to getting to know the person that he was writing to. The hard thing, initially, was when he had begun to feel guilty for having these feelings so soon after Cedric. Visiting him in the hospital though had helped him to put the past behind him and begin another chapter in his life. One that was free of feeling guilty for moving on.

         However, Harry was also not one to forget about the past and was committed to keeping his promise to avenge Cedric, even if it hadn’t been the person that he had originally thought to be responsible.

         Sending Dementors after people was just the sort of thing that something that Voldemort would do, and, to be honest, it scared him to think that he had to go up against someone like that.

         He just hoped that he would be able to beat the man some day, and hopefully it would be sooner as opposed to later.

         But all of these thoughts were getting him worked up as he sat in the library looking across the table at his friends, the ones who knew everything and would fight alongside him when the time came. Just knowing how far they had all come in the past year gave him hope. Besides, he also had Severus and Minerva and Sirius, along with a slew of other people who would fight because they believed in what they were fighting for.

         In fact, it got to the point where Harry was so overwhelmed just thinking how there was a chance that they would succeed with this, that it made him realize just how truly important and special what was developing between himself and Charlie.

         Soon, the only thing on Harry’s mind was thoughts of Charlie and wondering how things would work out between them. He was so incredibly anxious to get finished with his exams and to be able to spend time with him in person without the distraction of his classes.

         However, until summer break came they would only have their letters. Which reminded him that he should go to the owlery and mail his before dinner.

         It’s not like he was getting anything done in the library anyways.

        

* * *

        

         The first week of exams had gone well for Harry. In fact, he was sure that he had achieved Outstanding on all of his tests so far. Even Ron was feeling sure of himself that he had done no worse than an Acceptable on his Ordinary Wizarding Levels.

         Of course, it didn’t matter how well she thought she had done, for Hermione would be able to find some answer or part of the exam where her anxiety convinced her that she had lost points for some inane reason. Though, she didn’t fret about it as much as usual, which was something that both Ron and Harry were grateful for.

         However, the most surprising thing that had occurred so far during the first week of exams was the way in which Neville was carrying himself. The fifth-year Gryffindor had changed since the beginning of the year, and Harry had a likely guess as to why. It had to have been a huge relief off of Neville’s shoulders when he realized that the reason that he just wasn’t getting things in classes wasn’t because he was incapable as a wizard; it just had to do with perspective and how he went about learning.

         The more that Neville explored the various methods that worked better for him, the more enjoyable he found his classes to be and the more he started to actually perform well in them.

         And nothing highlighted his pleasure better than when they had finished with Potions and Neville had walked out of the practical with a huge smile on his face.

         All in all, things could be considered as going exceedingly well for Harry and his friends.

         Things were made even better with the fact that he was holding Charlie’s latest letter in his hands as he stretched out on his bed.

         For he had decided to take Saturday afternoon off from studying and indulge himself with Charlie’s response to his own letter that he had written in the aftermath of Umbridge’s swift departure.

         Harry had taken more of a chance and continued with their increasingly not-so-subtle hints about how they felt about each other. One of the things that he had done was to make Charlie promise that he would stop by Grimmauld Place during his first week back and spend an day with him just hanging out.

         Harry didn’t care what they did; he was just looking forward to being in Charlie’s company.

         After not being able to wait any longer, Harry tore open the envelope and began to read.

 

         _Harry,_

_First, I am so very sorry to hear about what happened. It took all of the self-control that I possessed to not rush straight to Hogwarts and see you. I couldn’t imagine having to endure that and I still can’t imagine how you were able to walk away without hurting her. I don’t think I would have been able to be that mature and level-headed._

_It makes me feel so bad inside knowing that you had to experience that. I wish there was something more that I could do, but it sounds like you have a pretty good support system there. I’m glad that at least Sirius and your friends were able to be there for you._

_Though, perhaps I COULD understand how you were able to bare it with Occlumency. However, I have never had much luck with that sort of magic. Maybe you could teach me though?_

_Anyways, I am sort of selfishly glad that you were thinking of me this week. Ditto. I can’t wait to see you when you get home and of course I will be available at Grimmauld Place. We can do whatever you want. And not just for a day, but I’ll make sure that you have a great summer and that I can take your mind off things._

_I know that there are other things that are going on, which are very hard to write about, but I am convinced that you deserve a bit of fun. And that comes with all of the hugs that you want._

_I guess I don’t know what else to write. I don’t want to take up too much of your time with everything else going on in the castle (but I am sure you are doing wonderfully on your exams). It is just that the words flow very quickly through my quill when I think that you are reading this that it makes it hard to stop. I literally feel like I could keep right on writing and know what you mean when you described that same feeling in your last letter. It does provide a certain comfort knowing that it feels so effortless in sharing things with you that I never have with anyone else._

_You are on my mind so much of the time that I may have even named a new Dragon after you at the reserve. I just blurted it out one day and it was so unusual that no one knew quite what to say, and it stuck. The funny thing is (assuming that you are okay with having a Dragon named after you) is that Harry is Norberta’s son. She found quite the stunner here and gave birth a few weeks ago. I’m sure she calls her son something else, but I just wanted to let you know._

_I really can’t wait to see you Harry and just be able to relax in your presence. Know that you aren’t alone with having those feelings._

_-Yours,_

_Charlie._

 

         Harry found it incredibly difficult to stop his cheeks from blushing. As always, Charlie’s newest letter didn’t disappoint. However, Harry was now left with an even greater desire for the school year to be over so that he could be with Charlie in person.

         The other effect that Harry couldn’t control in response to reading the letter was the hardness that had developed in his pants. Harry could just imagine being swept up in the man’s arms and the thought excited him greatly. In fact, Harry became to feel a different desire inside of his body that sped through his veins and quickened his pulse.

         Other thoughts of Charlie were now making their way into his mind, and Harry got lost with imagining just how it would feel to kiss him.

        

* * *

 

         A little later that day, and after a long shower to clean his body of his recent activities, Harry was sitting in the Great Hall next to Hermione. He was trying desperately to not look at Ron and think about how he had gotten off to the idea of someone else for the first time, let alone Ron’s brother.

         Thankfully, the plates of food appeared rather quickly and everyone dug in. Harry had been so thoroughly distracted with thoughts of Charlie that he had failed to notice the way the teachers were all whispering quietly at the head table. Then the food had appeared and Harry had focused on that, and so he still hadn’t cottoned onto the worried looks that passed across their features from time to time.

         So it came as an even bigger surprise when Owls suddenly flooded the space above the tables and descended towards the students who had a subscription to the Daily Prophet. It wasn’t often when a special, nightly edition of the paper was needed. Oftentimes, the Editor often felt that it was only necessary when something tragic had occurred.

         And this edition was no exception as the various copies were unfurled and the headline was revealed.

           

**Mass Outbreak At Azkaban.**

By Rita Skeeter.

_My Dear Readers,_

_I wish I had better news. I really wish that I had better news. Early this morning, a series of explosions rocketed the isolated prison that is heavily fortified and protected by more than just magic. The Ministry and their brave team of Aurors responded instantly to the distress call that went out shortly after breakfast. However, and brace yourselves my dear readers, not a single soul was found alive. The Warden was found in his control tower, likely a victim of the dreaded and illegal killing curse. Many of the guards were also missing, and those present I am sad to say were killed in the same manner as the Warden. _

_And not a single prisoner remained. The Ministry does not know for certain everything surrounding this incident, but I have found out that a working theory being tossed around is that Bellatrix Lestrange (nee Black) was somehow involved. Of course, my astute readers will remember that she escaped last year in the beginning of the summer and her whereabouts have remained unknown. The Ministry is asking the wizarding community to be vigilant for any sightings of her or one of the prisoners listed below. Again, readers are cautioned to treat her and any escaped prisoner as heavily armed and exceedingly dangerous._

_The Ministry has set up this hotline, reachable by Owl or Patronus, for our readers to share any information with the authorities. I wish I had better news, and ask each of you to remain cautious, not only tonight but in the coming days as the Ministry works tirelessly to deal with this unexpected tragedy._

 

Not a single person in the Great Hall was eating. Little by little, rumors began swirling as to the real reason behind this. It didn’t take the study body long to reignite the nervous and fearful chatter that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named could be back, and that Umbridge could have possibly been right about the man’s return.

 

* * *

 

**Let me know what you think!**


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